


In the Mouth of Madness

by Koyote19



Series: The Purgatory Arc [3]
Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: AU, Again, Angst, Multi, Purgatory, Sleep Deprivation, Supernatural Elements, Swearing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-04
Updated: 2015-03-31
Packaged: 2018-02-24 01:41:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 34
Words: 95,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2563577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Koyote19/pseuds/Koyote19
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nothing is ever quite what it seems. When everything goes to Hell, the best you can do is keep friends at your back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Calm before the Storm

**Author's Note:**

> This is the direct sequel to Damnation. If you haven't read that one, this fic is likely to be very confusing. It is labeled AU for a reason, since my version of events during the war will differ quite a bit from canon. The war lasted for two years, and Endless Waltz has not happened yet.

Zechs read over the report one last time, wearily searching for anything that might give Lady Une the idea that they had used less than normal investigative techniques to solve the six-month-old murder. Absently picking up the cup of long cold coffee, he glanced away from the screen for a moment to choke down a mouthful of it. At least Dorothy had brewed the last pot, so it wasn’t the foul sludge that those poor souls on night shift were getting out of the vending machine in the cafeteria. 

Emptying the cup, he set it aside and reached out to send the report to Lady Une. _Ah, shit. It’s already 7 a.m.— No wonder I’m tired._ Closing down his computer, he stretched out cramped muscles and leaned back in his chair.

He couldn’t help the satisfied smile as his eyes moved over the odd office. The former lounge had been transformed into a most unorthodox office space. They had opted not to strip the Preventers’ short supply of desks, and had simply moved the oval conference table into the outer room, along with the eight chairs. A row of file cabinets filled most of the narrow back wall of the office, with the small fridge, coffee maker and microwave nearly hidden in the corner. They had left one of the couches along the outer wall, under the single window to the outside world. The couch left the space cramped, but Duo had a tendency to sprawl out during their frequent brainstorming sessions. Not to mention that Zechs found it less unnerving when Solo and Treize at least pretended to be sitting on the furniture and not perched in thin air.

The conference table held their computers, spaced randomly around the surface, though Dorothy’s preferred place at the head of the table held both her desktop and the small laptop that Epyon traveled in. At the moment, judging by the idly flickering screensaver, Epyon was currently occupying the larger computer. The rest of the conference table was littered with neat and not so neat piles of files, scribbled notes, maps, coffee cups, legal pads and pens. 

Shaking his head a little at the sight of the controlled chaos that was their workspace, he stood up and moved wearily towards what he hoped was several hours of uninterrupted sleep. Not that he was holding much hope out for that. They’d been operating as a unit for over a month, but he was beginning to suspect that Une was taking a perverse sort of glee in dropping every single case she could on them. _Sanck was the home of Pacifism and Peace. So why the hell were there so many freaking murderers?_

Stepping into the much more dimly lit room where his partners were sleeping, he carefully picked his way around the edge of another couch, Duo’s boots, and a pile of uniform jackets. What they rarely admitted was that at least four of those cases would have been suicide missions for any other team, with the possible exceptions of the other four ex-Gundam Pilots. If they hadn’t had three very serious advantages on their side that Une didn’t even know about— they might not have been able to pull them off either. _Make that four advantages,_ he added silently, _counting both Solo and Treize. Five if you count Sister Helen showing up again on the Brewster case._

They had moved two of the couches into the living area, using them to frame the king-size air mattress currently occupying most of the floor space. Three small trunks holding what few personal items and spare clothing they had moved from his apartment filled the narrow back wall. 

But it was the sight of his partners, curled together in the center of the mattress that made him stop and smile in contentment. Dorothy was stretched out along Duo’s back, one arm around his waist, the other hand clutching his braid only inches from where his own hand was wrapped possessively around it. Dorothy cracked one eye at Zechs as he added his own shoes and jacket to the communal pile and crawled carefully onto the mattress with them.

“You’re just now coming to bed?” she asked sleepily. 

“Sent the Andrews report to Une. That’s one more case off the stack.”

“Thank God,” she sighed, closing her eyes again. “No nightmares tonight. Think he’s too exhausted.”

“I think we all are,” Zechs muttered as he stretched out beside Duo and closed his eyes. “If I had had any idea we’d end up this swamped—” 

“We’d still be here,” Dorothy grumbled. “Go to sleep Zechs.”

“I know.” There was more he wanted to say, but it was quickly lost to exhaustion. 

* * *

Trowa frowned down at the laptop in front of him; not even bothering to glance up when Heero entered the room. He moved the mouse over and deliberately clicked on the ‘receive mail’ icon. However, the only mail was a quick note from Quatre saying that he and Chang were on their way back to Earth for the Peace Summit, then they would be on L3 for a week and did they want to get together for lunch before they headed back to L4? Automatically replying, he sighed and glanced up at his partner. Heero was watching him curiously.

“What?” He asked defensively.

“Is something wrong?” Heero asked carefully. “You’ve been moping around that laptop for weeks. I thought that was my job.”

“Yeah, well,” Trowa shrugged, not even able to manage more than a faint smile at the attempted joke. He had no idea how to explain to Heero that he felt like something was slipping out of his reach, and he didn’t even know what it was.

Heero’s face fell a little. “Something is wrong.”

“No— Maybe. I don’t know,” Trowa shrugged. “Quatre and Chang want to have lunch sometime next week. After they get back from Earth.” Left unspoken was his wish that they were the ones returning to Earth. 

“It will be good to see the others again. It’s been a while since we were all together,” Heero sighed. 

“Yeah,” Trowa frowned a little, realizing then what part of his bad mood was. _But we won’t be all together, will we? Duo won’t be there._ It occurred to him, not for the first time since they’d started this mission, that he hadn’t had a chance to do more than email a quick goodbye to Duo before they had left for L3; and that he’d barely seen his best friend in the three months before that. 

All he could do was hope Duo was doing okay, but he couldn’t completely block the feeling that something was wrong. The last email from Duo had come several weeks earlier, saying nothing more than that some weird stuff had happened but not to worry. _Worry about what?_

It was, unfortunately, not the first time he’d wondered that; but Duo hadn’t answered his query for more details. Though he wished he’d known before now that the other guys weren’t on Earth either.

“Tro?” 

“I’m okay.” He glanced back at his lover and this time managed a smile. “Just homesick.”

Sudden guilt flashed across Heero’s face, startling Trowa. But before he could question it, the expression had faded back into the other man’s standard blank expression. “We probably won’t have to stay here for too much longer, now that the rioting seems to have stopped.”

“Good.” Trowa shrugged. “I like Earth. I miss the sunsets.” And he missed his best friend being there to watch them with him. _I know we both agreed to put the friendship on hold until Heero and I were a little more comfortable in this relationship, but enough is enough. I never agreed to give up Duo’s friendship completely, and sooner or later, Heero’s going to have to deal with that._

* * *

It was several hours later before the sound of laughter woke him, and Zechs finally opened his eyes again. When he did, he realized he was staring directly into a pair of wide, blue eyes at an incredibly close range. He blinked, realizing blearily that he was lying on his back and Duo was draped half across his chest. The younger man was tense in his arms, looking more than a little flushed even in the dim light.

“Good morning,” Zechs managed, still not sure quite why Duo was staring at him so oddly; but hoping it wasn’t because of his body’s unwelcome but not unexpected response to having a warm body pressed closely to his.

“Hi,” Duo muttered, and then squirmed a little uncomfortably. “Uh- can I get up now?”

“Huh?” Zechs blinked, and then as consciousness finally returned completely, blushed. “Shit. Sorry.” He managed to loosen the deathgrip he had on the younger man, who promptly rolled off of him only to jerk to a halt as they both discovered Duo’s braid still coiled around his hand. “Oops.” 

Duo just sighed, pulling the blanket around him and burrowing back into the pillows. Zechs blinked at him, then sat up and looked suspiciously around the room. As he’d realized a moment before, the laughter was coming from Treize. The ghost was curled up on one of the couches, and looked to be on the verge of tears from amusement.

_‘I’m glad you find this so damn funny.’_ Zechs glared at his best friend in annoyance. 

‘Oh, don’t worry. I am,’ Treize grinned. ‘Just give it up, admit you like him, and kiss him already.’

_‘Because I like having all my body parts attached, thanks.’_ Zechs spared a quick glance at the lump of blankets next to him. Somehow he rather doubted that Duo had gone back to sleep. _‘He doesn’t appear really receptive to the idea of being kissed, somehow. And hell, I don’t even know if he goes for guys or girls. He’s flirted with a lot of women, including Dorothy, but I’ve never seen him pursue anyone seriously.’_

‘Only one way to find out,’ Treize pointed out. 

_‘No, actually there are several ways to find out, and probably all of them would involve bodily injury to me.’_

‘So kiss Dorothy, then.’ Treize smirked. ‘Surely that would be infinitely safer. And I know you’ve been watching her as well.’

_‘What, do you have access to great mind altering substances in the afterlife or something?’_ Zechs stared at his friend. _‘Duo would probably just remove a few body parts with his bare hands. Dorothy would do the same only slower, with more enjoyment, and using a dull rusty implement of the spoon variety.’_ Shaking his head ruefully, Zechs threw one last look at Duo before slipping silently off the bed and pulling on his jacket and shoes.

* * *

Duo lay still, listening to the sounds of Zechs moving around the room; then the door closed and there was only silence. _Dammit._ He squeezed his eyes closed against the increasingly familiar feelings of despair and frustration. _Did he have to be so damn good looking?_ Not that waking up in Dorothy’s arms was any less frustrating right now. _I cannot have fallen for them, not now. I cannot fall in love. It’s not an option._

He had the dismal feeling that his body and heart were not listening to him, no matter how many times he insisted that he was not attracted to them. But he couldn’t forget the way Zechs’ body had felt against him when he woke, before his brain woke up enough to remember why that was dangerous ground; or the way Dorothy’s body had felt pressed against his back when he’d woken up in the middle of the night.

_They were alone for a long time, they’re just reacting to having someone to hold on to at night, he rationalized carefully. Just like you sleep better when there is someone else to curl up with; like at the orphanage, or with the gang under the old warehouse. It’s just comfort. Nothing more._

He wasn’t sure why that thought only increased his depression. _Besides, Zechs is still in love with Treize. Just cause his lover is a little— hard to touch. God. Why am I even thinking about this?_ Kicking off the blanket, he crawled to the edge of the air mattress and gathered up his clothes quickly. _I’m not attracted to either of them. I’m not._


	2. Acts of Aggression

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dorothy and a new partner get sent to guard Relena Peacecraft. Things do not go smoothly.

Robert Lowell hesitated outside the door to Lady Une’s office, listening to the raised voices through the door. He had only been a Preventer for a little over three weeks, barely long enough to complete the qualifying proficiency exams and start getting a feel for the job. Fortunately his previous military training and rank had been enough to get him out of having to go back through basic training or whatever served as it in the quasi-military organization. 

He hadn’t felt that he could remain at his former job, especially since once the Senator had been arrested for conspiracy to murder and falsifying evidence to hide the murderers, he hadn’t actually had a job. The soon to be ex-Mrs. Jameson had thanked him for his service but returned to her family home. 

The offer from Lady Une to join the ranks of those fighting to preserve the new peace had been more than welcome. And he had to admit that he was curious about the three Preventers who had actually solved the murder. _How could Lady Une get away with them being an obvious wild card unit, exempt from apparently any chain of command? And a homicide unit? Why would Preventers need a homicide unit? Isn’t that why Sanck still had a police force?_

“…if you can’t find someone else to do Yuy’s job, why don’t you just recall him from L3?” Dorothy Catalonia growled, her voice recognizable even through the door. “I can assure you that putting _me_ in charge of protecting Senator Peacecraft is a really bad idea.”

“Are you saying you wouldn’t protect her if there was an assassination attempt?” Une responded.

“Of course I would. But having me there is only going to piss off the princess.”

“I don’t care if she’s pissed, I care that she’s safe.” The commander of the Preventers sighed heavily. “And if I could get Yuy back here in time for the summit meeting, I would. I can’t. And of the Preventers I can spare and feel confident to handle this job, it would be even more awkward politically to send Merquise to do it. So that leaves me with you. You know the princess, you are familiar with her schedule and needs, you’ve certainly acted as her bodyguard often enough during the war, whatever your reasons for being at her side were—”

“That’s low, Une.”

“That’s the truth, Catalonia,” Une snapped. “I’ve known you since you were a child following Treize around like a shadow. I never believed you were with the Princess out of friendship. That doesn’t matter. What matters is that now I need you to do this job, and do it well. Zechs and Duo can handle things by themselves for a few days.”

“But, we’re already in the middle of three homicide investigations.”

“Dorothy, I need you to do this. There have been attempts on the lives of three diplomats on other colonies in the last two weeks, and threats against four others here on Earth. All of them will be attending this summit meeting along with Relena. We cannot afford to have any of the attempts succeed, not with the unrest on the colonies right now.”

“And you think I can single handedly pull this off?” 

“No. That’s why I’m sending you with backup.” 

“Oh, now that’s a really bad idea,” Dorothy growled. “Since my odds of it being either Maxwell or Merquise are very low.”

Deciding that he’d eavesdropped too long already, he took a deep breath and knocked on the door. The argument on the other side lowered in intensity, but did not quite stop even when Lady Une called for him to enter. Dorothy Catalonia threw him a glare as he entered, then blinked in surprise. “You’re sending me with a rookie for backup?”

“I’m sending a security specialist with you as backup. He has the required experience and skills for this, even if he is a recent addition to Preventers. And unlike most of my agents, so far _he_ hasn’t refused to work with any of you three. Try to keep it that way, Catalonia.”

“Yeah, whatever.” Dorothy stood up. “Fine. Let’s get this done so I can get back to work.” 

“Dorothy…” Lady Une said grimly.

“Save it, Une.” Dorothy glanced back over her shoulder. “Coming, Lowell?”

He threw Lady Une a look as his new partner stalked out of the room. “Is she always this pleasant to work with?” 

“Unless you happen to be either Duo Maxwell or Zechs Merquise, yes,” Lady Une sighed. “Thanks for agreeing to take this assignment. And don’t let her frighten you off.”

“I’m not easily frightened,” he responded with a faint smile. “This ought to be an interesting mission.” _Or not._

* * *

He hadn’t quite started eating those words by the time they reached the summit the next day, but it was a near thing. 

Dorothy had not been exaggerating about the Senator being unhappy with her presence as a bodyguard. Only sheer good manners from a lifetime of polite upbringing and the presence of a relative stranger had kept the initial greeting from degenerating into a cat-fight. To his relief, both women had retreated into a professional mien once they had emerged from the Vice-Minister's mansion; though a lingering stiffness in the set of both women’s mouths indicated that they were gritting their teeth to endure the reluctant moment of togetherness. 

However he couldn’t deny that Dorothy certainly knew her job, and had obviously been doing it for far longer than the eleven months that Preventers had been in existence. And however much she might have minded his presence on this mission with her, she was not allowing it to interfere with the job at hand. 

With an efficiency that was almost startling, she had bundled Relena Peacecraft, two aides and all of their assembled briefcases and satchels into the secure gate to the jet that would take them to Geneva for the Summit; leaving him with the duty of checking in with the previous team that had been guarding the plane, as well as checking out the plane itself. His belief that she had left that task to him on purpose was bolstered by the looks the two agents gave him as they left.

“Good luck, man. You’ll need it, stuck with the Wicked Witch for three days.” The taller of the two agents threw him a commiserating look. “What’d you do, draw the short stick or something?”

“Wicked Witch?” He raised one eyebrow at the man, ignoring the jibe that he’d gotten this duty out of sheer bad luck. 

“Yeah— one of the spook squad.” The agent shook his head. “Watch your back. It’s a damn sure bet that she won’t.”

“Spook squad?” He felt like a damned parrot, but this was the first time anyone had offered any information on the three agents. Despite his belief that Catalonia had free rein in this job because she’d know Lady Une since she was a child, that didn’t negate the fact that Lady Une seemed confident enough in her abilities to force her to take the assignment against her will. He just hoped like hell that that wasn’t going to be a mistake. 

“Yeah. They wander around HQ at all hours of the day and night. Une just lets them do whatever, though I heard she kicked Maxwell out of the field for a while after his last partner complained. Man, I sure wouldn’t be partnered with him. None of those gundam pilots are exactly stable, you know? At least the others are all paired with each other. He put four partners in the hospital before the Commander got smart and refused to pair him up with anyone.”

“He obviously has partners now.” Lowell shook his head, trying to reconcile the few times he’d met Duo Maxwell with images of the gundams from the war. 

“Yeah, and they’re all as psycho as he is.” The other agent suddenly seemed to realize that maybe this wasn’t the best time to be giving him this information. “Oh— shit. Sorry man. Good luck on the mission, and all. At least the Peacecraft chick is hot, right?”

Lowell gritted his teeth and tried to hide the disgust he felt as the other two agents sidled away cautiously. From their expressions, he had not succeeded. _These are the people Une left guarding the Senator’s plane?_ His only hope was that they were more professional at doing their job then they were when it came to gossiping about coworkers. With a sigh, he double-checked the plane far more carefully than he had originally intended to. If this was the level of recruits she’d been getting so far, no wonder Lady Une was so desperate for new Preventers. And he was beginning to see why she let the few that appear to get the job done, do it any way they wanted to.

Finishing with the security checks, he signaled for Dorothy to herd the three diplomats onto the plane. He caught her watching him thoughtfully, but neither of them spoke as they settled into their seats near the rear of the plane. Relena and her two aides immediately pulled papers out of briefcases and began discussing the agenda of the Summit meeting. 

Dorothy pulled out a small laptop from her own case, and booted it up. He found himself with very little to do for the next few hours other than musing on his odd associate, and her equally odd partners. _Gundam pilot hmm? I wonder which one._ He couldn’t help wondering how that had happened, to have an ex-pilot partnered with a former prince, who was also a high ranking officer in Oz and the figurehead leader of White Fang, and a woman that had no military rank, but apparently had extensive training; and had taken over the position of second in command of White Fang without even blinking. _Spook Squad indeed._

* * *

Dorothy spent most of the flight talking silently to Epyon and reviewing the files on the security for the Summit meeting. It didn’t take long to figure out why Une hadn’t given her the files until right before they left to pick up Relena and her staff. 

_Great._ Chang and Winner were coordinating the security for the summit, as well as doing bodyguard duty for the Diplomats arriving from the colonies. At least she could trust them to know what the hell they were doing. _But did it have to be Winner?_ She frowned down at Epyon’s screen. _Wonder if that’s why Lady Une didn’t even consider sending Duo. But they’re at least supposed to be his friends. And if they made it back from the Colonies in time for the Summit, why the hell couldn’t Yuy?_

Looking up from her laptop with a scowl, she found Lowell watching her curiously. “What?”

“I thought perhaps we should go over the security arrangements,” Lowell said neutrally, “so that I know what you expect me to do as your partner.”

“You aren’t taking charge of this operation?”

“You are the senior officer here, as well as the one most familiar with Senator Peacecraft’s needs.”   
“Well. That was surprisingly diplomatic. What happened to you thinking I was a bitch?”

He had the grace to wince a little at that. “I suppose I deserve that. And I owe you an apology as well. I’m afraid that I was behaving less than professionally that day. I let the situation become personal.” 

She shrugged. “Everyone thinks I’m a bitch. I don’t take it personally anymore. And considering that I all but accused you of murder, you were probably within your rights to call me that anyway.”

“I still would like to apologize. Especially since we need to work together on this mission,” he sighed. “And the fact remains, that I was being something of a bastard myself at the time.”

Dorothy studied him for a moment, not sure how to deal with the fact that he trying to make peace. 

“Apology accepted,” she finally murmured. “So now, this is what I need you to do. Winner and Chang are in charge of the security, which means that Winner’s private army will be handling most of the arrangements...”

***

Duo twisted restlessly, unable to get comfortable. It felt weird to try and sleep without someone else in the bed. He couldn’t help wondering if Dorothy and Zechs felt that way too. Finally throwing off the confining sheets, he wandered out into the main office to find Zechs frowning at his computer screen. He glanced up as Duo dropped heavily onto the couch behind him. 

“Another nightmare?” Zechs asked worriedly, turning the chair to face him. 

“Nah. Can’t get to sleep.” Duo shrugged. “Didn’t mean to interrupt you—just thought I’d see if company helped.”

“Ah.” Zechs sighed. “I was just trying to set up search parameters for the Sabrello case. See if any similar M.O.’s showed up.”

“Any luck?”

“Not so far. I have realized that we’ve gotten far too dependent on Epyon and Dorothy running all the database searches for us.” 

“Yeah well. She’ll be back in three days; probably pissed as hell and looking for something to lose herself in.”

“You have no idea,” Zechs rubbed his eyes wearily.

“Oh? Enlighten me, then. Since you obviously know something you aren’t telling me.”

“I took a break and hacked the security files for the Summit, just so I could see what she was having to deal with.”

“And?”

“And the security is being run by Winner and Chang.”

“Fuck,” Duo sighed. “Is Une deliberately trying to drive us all out of Preventers? Or is this just some twisted idea of revenge?”

“I think she is actually trusting Dorothy to be professional and handle this.”

“Dorothy handling it is not the problem.” Duo shrugged. “Rashid and the rest of the Maganac’s handling Dorothy’s presence in the same city as their precious Quatre is quite a different story.”

“Chang will be there. Surely he’ll be able to keep things under control?”

“Dorothy’s a woman, and the one who stuck three feet of steel into his lover’s stomach. What do you think?”

“I think we’ll be handling major fallout and damage control when she gets back to us.”

Duo just nodded wearily. “Why couldn’t Une just chill out a little and let me go instead? It's been a month. I haven’t put either of you in the hospital yet, and I obviously haven’t managed to get myself killed in the last eighteen years either.”

“I don’t think it’s because she doesn’t trust you.”

“Then what is it?” Duo sighed again. “For that matter, why the hell didn’t she just pull Yuy back for this job when Donatello got sick? It’s not like he and Trowa would have even been in the same country as me.”

“I don’t know. But something about the recent rioting has her worried.” Zechs shrugged. “L3 was hit the worst, and they’re still trying to account for all the damage and the missing people. I can understand why she wouldn’t want to pull Yuy and Barton out just yet.”

“Yeah, well.” Duo sat up on his elbows. “Guess that just leaves us to deal with the fallout when the Summit is over.”

“Also,” Zechs reluctantly confessed the last part, “she’s not exactly alone.”

“Oh?”

“She has Robert Lowell as backup.” 

“Lowell? The former-Chief-of-Security-for-Senator-Jameson Lowell?”

“That would be the one.”

“Oh— that’s going to put her in a good mood.” Duo rolled his eyes. “He called her a bitch when she practically asked him to confess to murdering a child. He’s not going to watch her back—he’s going to shove her in front of the firing squad.”

“Lady Une swears he’s professional enough to do his job. She seemed to be fairly impressed with his references and credentials.”

“Tell that to Seely. He wasn’t able to keep her safe, was he?”

“I would imagine he wasn’t expecting to have to protect her from her own relatives.” Zechs scowled at his partner wearily. “I’m trying to give him the benefit of the doubt, here. Do you mind?”

“Yeah. Sorry,” Duo sighed. “I just wish one of us was there with her. I hate to think of her being that alone in a hostile environment.”

“She has Epyon— and Treize followed too. So at least we’ll know if things do blow up.”

“Does she know that he’s with her?”

“She will soon,” Zechs smiled slightly. “And I suspect that Solo went with them too. I haven’t seen him since Treize left.”

“Oh, man. He’s going to corrupt Solo, isn’t he?”

“Corrupt him?” Zechs raised one eyebrow at his partner. “What do you mean by that?”

“A street rat with no social skills, hanging out with a rich ex-general? It’s a truly frightening thought.” Duo shuddered. 

“What, as frightening as the thought of you hanging out with a former prince?”

“There is that, huh?”

“There is that.”

***

Dorothy nodded to Lowell as Relena shut the door to the suite and locked it. One of the Maganac’s was standing guard at the end of each corridor, and full checks had been run on all the other guests on each floor. 

“Okay… the Senator is down for the night, and Winner’s watchdogs are on duty. We’re free, more or less, until the reception tomorrow morning,” Dorothy sighed, and leaned against the wall. “I’m going to grab dinner, and go to bed. Relena likes to arrive at these things early, so we need to be ready to go by 7 a.m.”

“Fine.” He nodded back, and headed for his room. They were flanking Relena’s suite, with her aides across the hall. “Good night.”

“Night.” She pushed herself away from the wall and headed for her own room. _Maybe I’ll just do room service. I’m too tired to deal with more glares from Winner’s army tonight._ Unlocking her door, she stared at the lonely bed for a long minute. _God, I miss the guys. How can I have gotten so used to them being there so fast?_

Shaking her head ruefully, she locked the door behind her and headed for the desk where she’d left Epyon. It had penetrated the hotel’s security system with ease, and had been monitoring the hotel while they were at the reception and opening banquet.

“Everything quiet?”

quiet

“Good.” 

message

“What?”

message. Epyon sent images of Zechs and Duo, sitting in front of Zechs’ computer in their office. Dorothy smiled in spite of her exhaustion. 

“Play the message.” She pulled out the chair and dropped into it as she watched the email open. They had sent a vid message, and Duo appeared on the screen in front of her.

”Heya, babe. Traumatized the rest of the Summit yet?” He grinned at her, then winced as Zechs growled something off screen. “Okay, okay. Jeeze. Gotta make this short so Mr. Impatient gets his turn. Anyway, since you aren’t here, I just wanted to wish you a good night. Sleep well.”

“You too, Duo.” She reached out to touch the screen for a moment.

”Dorothy…” Zechs replaced Duo on the screen for a moment. “Hope you are doing okay, even with Winner and his harem there. Give them hell for us, will you? Sleep well.” There was a pause, and then his voice lowered slightly. “It feels wrong with you four so far away. Stay safe.” 

Dorothy sat staring at the screen for a long moment after the image faded, not sure whether the message had made her feel better or worse. _Wait. Four of us?_ Despite the fact that she knew better, she couldn’t help glancing around the room anyway. _Four of us, huh? Guess that means I’m not sleeping alone tonight after all._

The thought provided a much needed balm against the day’s stresses. Despite her words to Lowell that she didn’t care if people thought she was a bitch, it still hurt deep inside. _Ah, screw dinner. Maybe I’ll just go to bed._

Smiling faintly to herself, she gathered up the sweats and t-shirt she’d grown used to sleeping in and changed quickly in the bathroom. _Idiot. They could be watching you in here just as easily as out there. Well… I doubt Treize would, seeing as how we were raised almost as family. That would be kind of weird. Don’t know about Solo though. Fuck it. It’s not like I’m going to ever know. Zechs probably won’t tell me, even if he knows._

Finishing up in the bathroom, she turned down the lights and headed for the large bed. She tossed restlessly in the dark room for a long minute; then sighed. “What the hell. Goodnight Treize. Night Solo.” Silence was the only answer, but she felt oddly comforted anyway. “Sleep well, guys. Or… whatever you do.”


	3. In the Company of Wolves

The summit itself turned out to be almost anticlimactic. Though Lowell had to admit to himself, that between guarding the Senator and running interference between his partner and every other living being at the conference, he hadn’t had time to get bored. It was nearly midnight now, and they had finally gotten the Senator settled for the night. Glancing at his partner as she turned to head for her room, he noticed the exhausted slump to her shoulders. 

“Are you alright?” 

She glanced back; looking almost surprised by the question. “I’m fine.” The tone of her voice was wary, and after the reception she’d gotten from not only their charges, but also the other Preventers, he could understand why. 

“You look…” He broke off, not wanting to insult her by accident. Oddly enough, his respect for her professionalism in the face of such hostility had only increased. 

“Like shit?” she finished for him, smiling bitterly. 

“I wasn’t going to phrase it quite that way, but yes.” He shrugged. “I never had a chance to eat, what with those idiots protesting the whaling trade crashing the ball tonight. It’s not like there are any whales left to save.” She almost managed a smile at that. “I was wondering if you wanted to get something to eat?”

“Are you sure you want to be seen associating with me?” she asked grimly. “It’s not a surefire way to win friends in the Preventers.”

“I didn’t join Preventers to win friends. I have those. I joined to help keep the peace.”

“You do that very well, by the way. Maybe you should have gone into diplomacy rather than security.”

“Hell, then I’d have to deal with diplomats all day. I’ve already done that once, and it wasn’t the great career choice I had imagined.”

“Well, no. I suppose it wasn’t at that.” She eyed him for a long moment. “Just dinner?”

“Of course,” he smiled. “I’ve seen your partners in action. I have no intention of getting on their bad side.”

“And you think asking me to dinner would do that?” She looked at him curiously.

“I think asking for more than dinner would do that.” He shrugged. “Are you hungry? I saw a diner around the corner that was open twenty-four hours.”

“I think I would like that.” She frowned then. “Though I should warn you that I’m not always the best company.”

“I think Ahmed’s phrase for it was ‘she’s as friendly as a rabid weasel in razor wire.’”

She looked oddly pleased by the insult. “Really? Which one is Ahmed again? I need to thank him for the compliment.”

“I’m not telling, simply because we’ve gone this long without a bloodbath and I’d like to keep it that way.” He fell into step with her as they headed for the elevators. “Though I am dying to hear just why none of them like you. I’ve found you perfectly pleasant.” 

“You thought I was a bitch, the first time you met me.”

“The first three times I met you,” he corrected with a grin. Neither noticed the door to the Senator’s room close softly behind them.

***

Relena Peacecraft was nervous. If asked, she would have denied it, but it was apparent in her white-knuckled grip on her briefcase. 

“Is everything alright?” Dorothy asked grimly, looking around warily. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong.” Relena forced herself to relax slightly, as Lowell gave the all clear and they headed for the plane. 

“You’ve never been able to lie to me, Relena,” Dorothy sighed. “Something’s wrong. If I’m going to do my job and keep you safe…”

“I’ve never been able to lie to you,” Relena laughed almost bitterly, “but you’ve never had any problem lying to _me_ , have you?”

“What?” Dorothy stopped, looking almost as shocked as if Relena had slapped her. “What are you…?”

“It’s always been about doing your job, hasn’t it?” Relena forced herself to calm down as they entered the plane, not wanting to look as upset as she felt before her aides. 

“Relena—” Dorothy looked bewildered. Relena felt a brief moment of triumph that she’d managed to breach the other woman’s shields when two days of cold hostility on the part of the rest of the Preventers hadn’t. Almost as quickly as she’d felt it though, she shoved the emotion away. It had been a year. It was time to let the past go.

“Dorothy,” Relena took a deep breath, as Lowell closed the door behind them. “I think perhaps it’s time we talked.”

“There’s nothing to talk about.” The other woman looked unsettled, and for the first time Relena really looked at her. Dorothy Catalonia had always had an air of control, and elegance about her. But now it was like looking through a cracked mirror. Relena could see lines of pain and hurt, just beneath the surface.

“I think there is,” Relena sighed. “Please?”

“Fine.” Dorothy stalked up the aisle to the seat near the rear, where she’d been sitting before. Relena glanced back at Lowell, who just shrugged and headed for one of the rear-facing seats near the cockpit.   
Gathering up what remained of her dignity, Relena followed Dorothy to the back of the plane and took her seat next to the other woman. She could feel the weight of the stares her aides were giving her, but ignored them for the moment.   
“So talk,” Dorothy said quietly, her eyes locked on the wing of the plane outside her window.

“When you… when you first came to Sanck. It wasn’t because you believed in Pacifism, was it?”

Dorothy looked startled, as if that had been the last question she’d expected from the former princess. 

“No,” she finally admitted softly. “I was sent there, to become your friend.”

“I thought as much,” Relena sighed. “I finally figured that much out.”

“Relena…”

“Were you sent to watch me for Romefeller? I know— I know that you were raised by your grandfather.”

“No,” Dorothy said quietly, and turned to look out the window. “Not entirely. They endorsed the plan, but it wasn’t their plan. And I wasn’t watching over you for them.”

“Then why? Who sent you?”

“I was sent to keep you safe— to protect you from Romefeller and Oz for as long as I could. Does it matter who sent me?”

“Yes,” Relena sighed. “All this time, I’ve been so angry that you lied to me. And betrayed me.”

“I never wanted to lie to you, Relena,” Dorothy whispered, but refused to look around. “I’m sorry that you felt that way.”

“Who sent you?”

“Treize Khushrenada,” Dorothy said the name softly.

“But why would he want you to protect me from Oz? Or from Romefeller?”

“Because you were the sister of his dearest friend,” Dorothy finally answered. “And they were afraid that you would be a target, just as King Peacecraft was. As your stepfather was.” 

“And you knew then— you knew all along that Zechs Merquise was my brother. And never said a word.”

“At the time, I had no idea why. Or that Zechs Merquise and Milliardo Peacecraft were the same person.” Dorothy glanced at her. “I swear to you that I didn’t lie to you about that. Not at first.” 

“Then why did you agree to come?”

“Because as a child, Treize had been my idol. He was only a distant cousin, on my father’s side, but he was as close to a brother as I ever knew. And then I was sent to live with my Grandparents. It was— my mother had been a disappointment three times over to my grandfather, first by being his only child, and female; and then by bearing only a daughter herself. He eventually accepted that if he were going to have a child follow in his footsteps, it would have to be me. Treize found a way to get me away from that by sending me to you. I didn’t care why.” 

Relena forced down tears at the pain in the other woman’s voice. “And later, when you knew?”

“You believed so strongly in peace. How could I tell you?” Dorothy shrugged. “I never meant to betray your friendship though. What did I do that was so bad to destroy that?”

“You took my brother from me,” Relena sighed. “I know. I realize now that that was not your intention or your fault. But that is how I felt. I finally learn that my brother lived— only to learn he planned to destroy the world out of some madness I still don’t understand. And then my closest friend leaves me to go to be at his side.”

“Relena…” 

“No. I need to say this, because a year is long enough for us to be angry with each other. How can I claim to promote peace, if I can’t even bring peace into my own family?” Relena took a deep breath. “It was worse when I went to the Libra to reason with him. You sided with him. And he listened to you.”

“Relena…”

“I was jealous.” Relena ignored the soft word from the other woman. “I was jealous, and a spoiled brat— and I’m sorry.” 

“I— I’m sorry too.” Dorothy finally looked up at her, and Relena could see that the mask the other woman wore had cracked deeply. “You know, don’t you? That he’s my partner again?”

“Yes. Lady Une told me.” Relena looked down at her hands. “I heard rumors, as well. That you are more than— more than partners. Is that true?”

“We’re close friends.” Dorothy sighed. “He and Duo have given me back my life. And I owe them a debt for that which is beyond friendship. But I really don’t think I’m his— type.”

“Last night. I heard you and… I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but Lowell said he wouldn’t ask for more than dinner, because he didn’t want to anger your partners. So, I was afraid that perhaps you were my sister in truth now, and neither of you would tell me because I’d been behaving so badly.”

“I don’t know what I am to Zechs, other than a partner and a close friend.” Dorothy shook her head slowly. “What the three of us share is not something I can explain. Perhaps you should ask Zechs.”

“Zechs. Then Milliardo is truly gone?” 

“Yes. But he’s still your brother, and he still cares deeply about your safety.”

“I may have severed that bond beyond repair as well.” Relena sighed. “I seem to have done that with a number of close relationships lately.”

“As long as you’re both alive, it’s never too late to fix them.” Dorothy winced at something. “We’ve found that out the hard way. You shouldn’t have to learn that lesson too.” 

“Maybe.” Relena unfastened her seatbelt. “Anyway. I saw the way others treat you now, and I know that part of that is a reflection of the way I’ve been behaving. So, again… I just want to say how very sorry I am.”

“Apology accepted.” Dorothy managed a faint smile. “Though you aren’t responsible for the way Winner and Chang, or Winner’s goons, feel about me. I managed to incur that hatred all on my own.”

“Well, that’s a weight off my conscience.” Both women managed smiles at each other for the first time in a year. With a last deep breath, Relena left to return to her seat, leaving Dorothy to sit staring blindly out the window. 

* * *

Quatre glanced worriedly at Trowa, feeling the depression flowing off the older teen in a black wave. From the uncertain looks Heero was throwing his lover, it probably was not just his imagination either. 

“Trowa?” He ventured carefully, as they were ushered into a restaurant in one of the few parts of L3 untouched by rioting. “Is everything ok?”

His only answer was a shrug as Trowa buried himself in his menu.

“How was the Peace Summit?” Heero asked, trying to fill the awkward silence. 

“Hell.” Wufei sighed heavily, setting his own menu aside. “I think the pressure has finally gotten to Lady Une.”

“Oh?”

“She had the apparently brilliant idea to put Dorothy Catalonia in charge of Relena’s security team.”

Trowa had apparently still been following the conversation, for he winced at that news.

“What happened to Donatello?” Heero looked surprised, no doubt because he had personally recommended the man as his replacement when they left for L3.

“Emergency appendectomy, according to Catalonia’s partner. They both got called in the day before to take over.”

“Catalonia agreed to have a partner? I thought she only worked alone?”

“So did we. Apparently Lady Une regained that much sense, in sending someone else along to act as a go between. I got the impression that he’s new to Preventers, and that this was their first assignment as partners,” Wufei sighed. 

“Ah. Poor guy. Bet he doesn’t last long then.” Heero shook his head.

“And then a bunch of animal rights protesters crashed the Summit ball, wanting to save the whales,” Quatre added wryly.

“What whales?” 

“That’s what everyone else wanted to know,” Wufei grinned. “But it did break the tension a little.”

The waitress came by at that moment to take their orders. After everyone had ordered and their drinks had arrived, the talk turned to the riots.

“How is the investigation going?” Wufei ask quietly.

“Slowly,” Heero answered, looking troubled. “It’s odd. We’ve had reports of entire neighborhoods on L3-x18999 that have been abandoned. According to the reports, the people were arrested by Preventers, yet we don’t have nearly that many people in holding to account for the ones taken. And we didn’t just take entire neighborhoods into custody.”

“That is odd,” Quatre frowned. “They have to be somewhere.” 

“We’re still pulling bodies out of the areas hit the hardest,” Trowa shrugged. “But I doubt we’ll find enough dead to account for all the missing. It’s as if they vanished into thin air.”

“Any idea what caused the riots?” Quatre asked.

“The life support started malfunctioning a week or so before. The temperature controls were damaged by an internal short-circuit, and the colony started to get much hotter than usual— which caused tempers to get shorter. There were rushes on stores to buy refrigeration units and air conditioners… and when the supply ran out, it got ugly quickly.”

Quatre and Wufei looked at each other soberly. “That’s odd. That’s what started to happen on one of the L4 satellite colonies, except the temperature was dropping. But we managed to get a team of engineers into the main control room and repair the damaged system before it got too far and the people started to suffer.

“I wonder if anyone has thought to check the temperature controls of the other colonies? All of them except the new one, L6, were manufactured about the same time,” Trowa mused thoughtfully. “Perhaps it’s a part with a design flaw that is just now giving out.”

“I’ll check with Une, see if anyone has reported similar problems on any of the L1 or L2 clusters.” 

“I’ve heard that L2’s temperature controls haven’t worked properly for years.” Quatre sighed. “Duo always used to complain about the cold on V08744, but I think he mentioned that things weren’t much better on any of the other colonies in the cluster either. Besides which, those colonies have been so damaged by rioting and the war— I’m not sure anyone could get to the main control rooms anymore.” 

“And how would anyone know if a new set of riots started there?” Wufei shrugged. 

“Speaking of Duo, how’s he doing?” Trowa managed to sound casual, but Quatre could hear the odd undertone of worry. _Why would he be worried about Duo?_

“Same as usual,” Wufei rolled his eyes.

“Though we haven’t actually been on Earth in the last month or so either, except for the conference, and he wasn’t there. But I’m sure he’s fine.” Quatre shrugged. “You know Duo.”

“Yeah.” Trowa didn’t sound convinced, but let the subject drop again.


	4. Electric Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team gets the first warning of what is to come.

Zechs frowned down at the report, trying to decipher the scribbled notes that Duo had written into the margins. It had quickly become obvious over the last month, that Duo’s handwriting decreased in legibility the more exhausted he was. _Maybe I should point out to Une that overloading us this badly, is going to put him right back where he was two months ago: on the edge of burnout._ Running one hand through too-long bangs, he squinted at the notes again. _Better yet, maybe I’ll have Sally tell her. She’s been making concerned noises about all three of us lately. Maybe a day off would be a good idea for everyone._

Dropping the report back into the stack in front of him, he glanced over at the clock. It was only midnight, but he’d been operating on less than five hours of sleep a night for longer than he could remember. Even when he had the luxury of time to sleep— spending the majority of each day dealing with victims in varying states of decomposition had left him with little desire to close his eyes long enough to dream. The only thing giving him any peace of mind at all, was that somehow Solo and Treize had managed to find a way to keep any of them from actually appearing in the office, leaving him at least one safe haven.

‘You know, killing yourselves is only going to deprive Une of her best team of investigators.’ Treize seated himself on the edge of the table.

“Tell me something I hadn’t already figured out,” Zechs scowled at his friend. “Sorry. That was…”

‘Don’t apologize,’ Treize shrugged. ‘You need to let off steam occasionally. The least I can do is listen.’ The ghost sighed. ‘Actually, the most I can do is listen.’

“You do plenty.” Zechs glanced up at his friend. “You keep me sane. And we would not have made it through the Glover case without you and Solo.”

Treize shrugged. ‘Perhaps.’ He studied Zechs silently for a long moment. ‘But I still worry that you need someone living to turn to.’

“Treize— don’t even start that tonight.” Zechs sighed. “Yes, I’m attracted to both of my partners. But I’m not sure that getting involved with either of them romantically is a good idea. Une put me in charge of this division, and so far it’s working well; but you and I both know that having an affair with a subordinate officer is like walking through a minefield. I don’t want to risk the friendships we’re building if it blows up in our faces. We all need this too much to risk it.”

‘Our affair did not blow up in our faces…’ Treize frowned.

“Didn’t it?” Zechs dropped his face into his hands. “Then why the hell did we spend the last year of the war on opposite sides? As enemies?”

Treize winced. ‘I suppose you are right. And I was fully to blame for that, wasn’t I? But I loved both of you—’

“And couldn’t choose between us.” Zechs sighed. “I understand it now. But at the time, all I could see was that you would throw away everything for a relationship that was destined to end badly. And you wonder why I am afraid to risk it myself? I care for both Duo and Dorothy, probably much more than I should given the risks we take every day. We have found a balance together than none of us could have imagined possible three months ago. I will not destroy it for a casual fling.” He frowned a little. “Besides, it would be damn hypocritical of me to give into this, after the hell I gave you about claiming to be in love with both me and Leia.”

‘I just hate to see you so lonely.’ Treize shook his head. “And how could I consider it hypocritical, when I was the one arguing for so long that it was possible to love two people at the same time? I always hoped you’d be able to come to that acceptance someday. The fact that it happened after my death was simply unfortunate.’

“I’m not alone anymore, Treize.” Zechs glanced at his friend and smiled sadly. “I have you still, and now I have them. It’s enough, my friend.” The smile faded. _It has to be._

* * *

The soft cry woke him, and he reached for Duo automatically. Dragging the trembling body into his arms, Zechs curled closer around his smaller partner; and stroked one hand soothingly through the long, loose strands of hair that cascaded around them. _Wait. Loose hair? Duo never sleeps with his hair loose…_ That thought finally penetrated the exhaustion, and he opened his eyes to find himself holding Dorothy instead. 

“Doro?” he whispered softly, still stroking her hair softly. “Wake up. It’s just a dream.” Glancing quickly around the dimly lit room, he determined that Duo wasn’t there with them. “Come on, wake up.”

She shuddered, curling tighter into a fetal ball in his arms. Zechs dragged the blanket closer around them both, half sitting to drag her into his lap. She curled into the warmth of his arms, tucking her head under his chin much as Duo normally did. Not for the first time, he found himself realizing that his partners were very nearly the same size; and both fit all too well into his arms. 

“Shhh.” He rocked her slightly, feeling the shudders increasing. Even in her sleep, her hands had locked onto his shirt with a grip destined to rip fragile cloth. “Dorothy. Come on, Catalonia! Wake up…” 

The door to the outer office opened, and Duo poked his head in. His expression went from worried to grim when he saw Zechs trying to soothe Dorothy out of the nightmare. 

“Zechs?” Duo stepped into the room and crawled across the mattress towards them. A moment later, Solo appeared in the doorway as well. The ghost frowned, but looked more worried than angry. “Man, wake her up, will you? Epyon is freaking out or something…”

“What?” Zechs tightened his arms around Dorothy, as he stared at Duo in horror. “Shit.”

“Uh-huh… background is changing colors in a blur, and it’s writing some kind of gibberish all over the screen.”

“Dorothy, come on. Wake up!” When nothing happened except an increase in the trembling, he raised his head to meet Duo’s eyes. “Shit. Turn it off.”

“But…”

“It survived the destruction of the Libra— it will survive this.” _I hope…_

“Yeah, but what about her?” Duo hesitated on the edge of the mattress. “If they’re linked, what happens to her when I pull the plug?”

“Dammit…” Zechs hesitated as well, then quickly detangled himself from Dorothy as much as he could considering her deathgrip on his shirt. “She’s not even touching it. How the hell is she picking up on it?”

“Or is it picking up on her?” Duo moved quickly back to help Zechs, wrapping his own arms tightly around Dorothy. Zechs winced, steeling himself silently, and slapped her hard. She gasped, sagging into Duo’s arms with a strangled moan.

“…he’s coming…” 

“Doro?” Duo brushed tear-damp hair out of her eyes. “Come on, I’m the only one allowed to do this.”

“…we have to…stop him…” She shivered, and went still in their arms.

“Stop who?” Duo met Zechs’ eyes worriedly. The older man had no reply, just hugged Dorothy tightly. After a moment, she hugged him back, her arms winding around his neck tightly as she started crying. It was oddly surreal for both men, and Zechs found himself rocking her softly again. _What the hell could make Epyon freak and Dorothy cry?_ Somehow, he had the bad feeling he really didn’t want to find out.

“Doro?” He wiped the tears from her face with a corner of the blanket. “Shh. It’s alright now. You’re okay…”

She shivered, but gradually the tears stopped. Zechs leaned back against one of the couches, aware of Duo hovering worriedly nearby. Without thinking, he reached out to pull the younger man into the embrace as well. Duo sighed, relaxing against him, and his head slipped down to rest on Zechs’ shoulder; his forehead resting against Dorothy’s paler hair.

“Better?” Zechs asked quietly; when Dorothy’s shaking had eased along with the tears.

“Y-yeah…” She muttered. “What the hell was _that_?”

“Um, we were kinda hoping you could tell us,” Duo muttered. “Christ, you scared the crap outta us. I thought the nightmare bit was my gig.”

“I… I’ve never dreamed like that before…” She shivered. “It was… I can’t describe it… it was…” She broke off helplessly.

“What were you dreaming about?”

“I…” She hesitated. “I don’t know.”

“But it scared you,” Zechs sighed. “You said ‘He’s coming.’ Who’s coming?”

“I don’t know.” She wiped her eyes. “I don’t remember anything but a jumble of images, people’s faces… blood. Static…”

Zechs met Duo’s eyes over the top of her head. _Static? How do you dream static?_

“Um, Doro, were you dreaming that? Or was Epyon?” Duo asked uncertainly.

“What?” She stared at him blankly. “I wasn’t touching Epyon.”

“It was reacting to something,” Duo muttered. “Does it dream?”

“I… I don’t know,” She sighed. “It’s hard to understand now. Ever since the suit was destroyed, it’s like it’s trying to talk underwater or something. Sometimes even I can’t figure out what it’s trying to tell me.”

“Hmm,” Duo frowned thoughtfully.

“Computers don’t dream, Duo,” Zechs muttered, trying to reassure himself as much as his partners. “It must have been picking up on Dorothy through the link somehow.”

“Computers don’t freaking see the future or download themselves ‘cause they’re afraid of dying either.” Duo frowned. “This _is_ Epyon we’re talking about.” He shrugged. “Who knows what the hell it can do— or could do before it was damaged.”

“I’ll talk to Treize,” Zechs sighed. “Maybe he’ll have some idea what’s wrong with it. He did build it, after all.”

“I don’t know if I would consider him an expert on it. Since I kind of got the impression he was pretty surprised by most of what it could do.”

“He’s the closest to an expert we’ve got,” Zechs grinned suddenly. “Unless you want to call Yuy on L3 and ask him for help.”

“Is cutting off my head first an option there?” Duo grumbled. Solo just rolled his eyes.

“I thought you and Yuy were friends,” Dorothy asked, finally distracted enough to let go of Zechs somewhat.

“No. Trowa and I are friends. Yuy is Trowa’s boyfriend. I am the jealousy-inducing ‘other man’ in Tro’s life. I think any chance we had to be friends probably ended when they started dating.” Duo shrugged. “Not that we were heading for a close friendship anyway. I was a little too unstructured for Yuy. I confuse him.”

“Oh. That must be hard for you and Trowa, then.”

“You could say that. I was giving them plenty of room, so that maybe hopefully he’d calm down a little and start accepting that Trowa loves him. God only knows why. But apparently even hanging out with Tro once a month was too much for Heero— He asked Une for that transfer to L3.”

“Is that why you didn’t turn to Trowa for help, when the nightmares and visions started?” Zechs asked quietly.

“Yeah,” Duo looked away, staring into the corner of the dark room. “He woulda insisted that I stay with them, or he would have moved back in. And Heero’s currently fragile view of the world and love would have imploded right there. Couldn’t risk it.”

“You know Barton’s going to be pissed as hell when he finds out that you were in trouble and didn’t tell him?” Dorothy pointed out. “I would be, if I was him.”

“It’s probably not going to be a problem.” Duo shrugged. “Not exactly likely to run into him anytime soon, am I?”

“True. But the riots have ended on L3. And thanks to Winner and Chang, the riots on L4 barely started before Preventers got them stopped. Une will have to bring them back sooner or later. We can only cover for the four of them, in addition to being the official Homicide division, for so long.” Zechs scowled.

“Yeah, that is getting kind of old,” Dorothy growled. “I should be helping you guys. And instead I’m stuck with guard-the-princess duty. It doesn’t help that she would probably prefer Duo right now. At least she doesn’t actively hate me anymore, like she used to, but things are very awkward.”

“I wouldn’t be too sure of that,” Duo muttered darkly. “Since my friendship with Trowa is responsible for Heero’s transfer to L3, leaving her to the infrequent care of Donatello on the few occasions he’s not been having major surgery…”

“My sister is a good politician and she’s grown up a lot in the last year, but sometimes, logic just seems to escape her.” Zechs shook his head. “I’ll talk to Une though. Surely someone else can take that over. If she wants this new division to work, she’s going to have to find other people to take over the slack now.”

“She just got spoiled to us all working 18 hour shifts, and taking on any extra tasks that would guarantee we didn’t have to go home,” Dorothy sighed.

“She can get unspoiled,” Zechs scowled. “She gave us the authority to run this any way we want to, and set us apart from the rest of the Preventers. She’s got to deal with the consequences of that just like we do.”

“You go,” Duo muttered. “Does that mean we might get slightly more regular work hours? And occasional backup?”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Zechs promised.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so it begins...


	5. Ghost in the Machine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team takes a trip to Jamaica, and Treize reveals why he made Epyon.

Howard saw the legs first, from where he was upside down underneath the shuttle engine. Tilting his head back, he surveyed three pairs of shoes, and three pairs of faded—and in one case ripped— denim jeans. Tilting his head the other way, he followed the legs up to the bottom hem of brown and black bomber jackets, and fringes of hair; Silver, gold and darker brown. _I gotta do something about the company that boy keeps._

“Howie,” a familiar voice called out impatiently. “I know you see us. I need to ask a favor, old man.”

“I’m retired. The two of you that aren’t Duo, go away.”

“Give me a minute, okay guys?”

“Are you sure this is…?”

“Trust me.” There were a few grumbles before two pairs of legs moved away. Duo crouched down, then slid under the engine beside Howard and picked up a wrench. Neither spoke for several minutes, as they finished unbolting the outer casing. Lifting it off and to one side, Howard started contentedly fiddling with the bolts inside. “How ya been, old man?”

“Old man?” Howard scowled at the interior of the engine. “What did I always tell you? Flattery is the way to get favors, not insults.”

“Right. But then, I know where that nickname came from, don’t I?” Duo grinned at him. “Still reading ancient science fiction?”

“Do fish swim?” Howard snorted. “What’d you come here for, asking favors with those two along?”

“All you saw was their legs,” Duo frowned. “How d’ya know who I brought with me?”

“Cause I’ve known Milliardo Peacecraft for a lot longer than you have,” Howard growled. “And from the hair, I can take a guess who the third pair of legs belonged to.”

“Oh.” Duo appeared to think about that for a moment.

“So— what was the favor?” Howard finally asked, curious in spite of himself.

“You’re the greatest, Howie.” 

“That wasn’t a yes, and you know it. Now spill. I may be retired, but that doesn’t mean I have all day to lay here and bullshit with insolent young know-it-alls.”

“It’s kind of complicated.”

“Have you considered retirement?” Howard glanced at his companion soberly. “Things are much less complicated. I kind of like it that way.”

“Yeah, yeah. Anyway, it’s kind of like this…” Duo started. Howard let him talk, listening attentively if somewhat skeptically. And kept listening, after the silence started; waiting for the cry of ‘April Fools’. The silence dragged on. 

Howard finally set down the wrench, and rolled out from beneath the engine without saying a word. Duo followed a moment later, his familiar face lined with worry and exhaustion. Howard stared at him, then shook his head. 

“I told Gordon you were gonna lose your damn mind piloting that Gundam,” Howard muttered, picking up a rag and wiping grease off his hands. 

“I’m not crazy, Howard.” Duo sighed. “I know what it sounds like, and I really did think I was losing my mind at first too. But…”

“You expect me to believe that some damn computer messed with your heads, and now the three of you are solving crimes for the Preventers with the help of a coupla of dead guys and a psychotic computer program?” Duo winced as Howard kept going. “And now you need me to help fix the computer that drove a lot of people insane and got a hell of a lot more killed. Because it’s having nightmares.”

“Um. More or less, yeah.” Duo met his eyes hopefully. “Is that a yes yet?”

“And one of those dead guys, who is also the man who started the war to begin with, is gonna help me?”

“Uh… yeah?”

“Do you have any idea how insane that sounds?” Howard snapped, glaring at his former protégé. 

“Actually, yes. I do. But Howard…”

“Don’t ‘But Howard’ me.” Howard turned towards the office. “Melvin! I need more beer!” 

“Come on, Old Man. What have you got to lose?” Duo wheedled shamelessly as Melvin appeared with a six-pack in one hand. He greeted Duo with a cheerful grin, and then retreated back into the office of the small hanger. Howard grabbed one of the beers, and downed most of it before throwing a sour look at his young companion. 

“It’s a damn good thing for you I’ve been bored lately,” Howard finally admitted. “You and your friends gonna help me drink this crap or not?”

“Thanks, man.” Duo grinned at him, his face lighting up.

Howard just snorted, and took another swig of beer.

* * *

It took less than five hours for Howard’s workshop to resemble a pared down version of the Homicide office. Scattered diagrams that Zechs had retrieved from Treize’s former estate in Brussels competed for space on a long table against the gutted remains of a laptop, two separate piles of internal computer components, three piles of circuitry diagrams newly drawn on everything from napkins to parchment paper, and an impressive collection of beer bottles. 

Watching Howard work, scribbling away on at least two different notepads as he questioned Dorothy about the implant and exactly how Epyon communicated with her, it was clear to Zechs exactly where Duo had learned his investigative techniques. The younger man glanced up from where he was currently poring over a printout of Epyon’s AI coding and grinned at Zechs. 

_Yes, I think a day off was definitely a good thing. And thanks to Dr. Po, we actually coerced Une into giving the three of us the entire weekend off. Not that she probably expected us to take the next flight to Jamaica._

Zechs smiled back at his partner, then turned to look out the hanger door at the ocean. Warm afternoon sunlight beckoned, turning the pale sand of the beach into a white carpet, edged by the deep cerulean blue of the water just beyond. The sky was only a few shades lighter than the water. _Damn. How long has it been since any of us actually went outside in daylight? I’d forgotten the sky could be so blue._

“What the hell? Did he have to put so damn much effort into coding this?” Duo added a line to the flowchart he was drawing. “This thing is huge. No wonder it took on a life of its own.” 

Zechs turned away from the view of the beach, to see that Howard and Dorothy were also watching Duo as the younger man tugged absentmindedly on his braid. 

‘I had no choice,’ Treize muttered as he leaned over Duo’s shoulder to look at the flowchart. ‘I was programming a Gundam for someone that had received training in strategy, tactics and hand to hand combat, but not flight training. Epyon had to be able to analyze all the incoming data, calculate the consequences of each action and then react as completely as a human pilot— only a lot faster.’

“No wonder it started to see the future.” Zechs shivered as he sat back in his chair, running one hand distractedly through white-blond hair. “God, and now I know why I had to fight so hard to take control of it. It didn’t want to give up the pilot seat to a mere human.”

“Huh?” Duo glanced up at him. 

Zechs repeated Treize’s explanation. “When I first flew the suit, I had to fight it for every move. Every command. It about drove me mad.”

“It did drive Une mad,” Duo muttered. “And Quatre.”

“I thought that was caused by the Zero system.”

“Actually, after his destructive spree, I think the Doctors heavily modified the Zero system before they let any of you test it again. It was a lot less alive afterwards, and much less likely to take the war into its own hands a second time.” Howard frowned thoughtfully. “But the amount of coding required for that… it does make a lot more sense now. I know none of us could ever figure out why the AI was so complex.”

“That makes sense as well for why Epyon developed its own personality. In effect, Treize managed to make it human, only without the biological components.” Dorothy shivered.

‘That was the whole point of having a human pilot,’ Treize sighed. ‘I truly was not trying to create mobile dolls, even if Epyon was the basis for them.’ 

“Yeah, but the dolls couldn’t think for themselves. Epyon could. And does,” Zechs said softly. “Maybe it wants to be completely human.”

‘I didn’t program it to want that. Or to think independently about anything but piloting.’ Treize frowned. “Somehow it learned to do that on its own.’

“Or it learned from the first few people that used it. What _did_ happen to Lady Une when she used it?”

Treize turned away abruptly, without answering. Zechs winced, and didn’t press the issue. Judging from the look on Treize’s face, he really wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer to that. The others seemed to read his expression as well; everyone turned back to what they had been working on without further comment.

Zechs forced himself to concentrate as he compared the chart to what Treize had coded. AI programming was not his specialty. Fortunately, they had managed to recover most of Treize’s notes. But the lines were beginning to all blur together, and he was no longer sure what Treize had meant the portion they were studying to do. With a sigh, he shoved silver-blond hair out of the way as he bent over the diagram again. 

With a soft groan, Duo leaned back and rubbed his eyes wearily. “Dammit, I have totally lost track of the logic direction again. Sorry.” Pushing away from the table, he stood up; Zechs managed not to flinch as he passed through Treize. Wandering restlessly around the workshop, Duo glanced at several of the half-finished projects scattered on various worktables. Once, he started to reach out to touch one but drew his fingers back as if burned. 

“Duo?” Zechs half stood up to go to him as the younger man stood with his head bowed, staring moodily at his hand as if he’d never seen it before. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Duo muttered softly, then sighed and moved back towards his chair. “Just needed to look away for a bit. Where were we?”

“How long has it been since any of you slept?” Zechs turned his head to see Howard frowning at them. “Or took a break?”

“We slept on the plane, a little.” Zechs shrugged. “And there hasn’t been much time to take breaks. We only have a little over a day and a half to get this done.”

“Before you go back to the grind and work yourselves into the ground?” The old man snorted. “You do realize that no way in _hell_ this will get fixed before you leave tomorrow evening?”

“We don’t have another option,” Zechs growled. “Epyon is trying to tell us something, and until it manages to do so, none of us are going to get much sleep.” 

“Are you sure you want to know what it’s trying to say?”

“It’s not a matter of choice, Howard,” Duo sighed, looking at Dorothy. She was sitting slumped in the chair next to Howard; her head propped up on one hand and the other resting on Epyon’s travel case. Taking a good look at her, Zechs could see the bruises exhaustion had left beneath her eyes. When he looked at Duo, he could see the same signs of fatigue and strain. The younger man was wraith thin again, and trembling slightly even in the warm breeze. He knew with a cold certainty that the same marks were on his own face. 

“Perhaps not. But you guys aren’t going to be in any shape to deal with what Epyon’s trying to warn you about, if you don’t get some kind of rest.” The old man grimaced. “And I don’t mean just sleep.”

They all threw him bewildered looks.

“Huh?” Duo asked finally. 

“What do you do on your down time?” Howard pushed. When they just looked at him blankly, he sighed. “Days off?” 

“We came to Jamaica,” Duo finally managed. 

“You come all the way to Jamaica— and you have spent the morning cooped up in my workshop working.” Howard sighed. “I don’t think you guys have the concept of down time quite right yet.”

“We’ll rest when this is fixed,” Duo muttered.

“Which is going to be a few days, if not weeks,” Howard gritted. “I’m not a freaking miracle worker here. Plus, I’m retired and I intend to sleep occasionally.”

“Howard…”

“Don’t argue with me, boy.” Howard glared at them all. “It’s time for my nap anyway. Not to mention I need time to look at all those pretty pictures you’ve been drawing with the help of your—ghost friend.”

“Okay, we’ll take a break for a few hours,” Zechs finally relented. “What time should we be back?”

“Nine a.m.” The old man shook his head. “I need to look over what you’ve got before I know what else to ask. And work on some models. So I don’t want to see any of the three of you until tomorrow morning.”

“But…” Duo blinked at his mentor in shock. 

“No buts.” Howard scowled at them. “Now get out of my hanger. Go walk on the beach, or eat dinner— or something. If you need a place to stay, Melvin will fix you up. Otherwise, go away and have a good night.” With a last grumble, he snagged the last beer and headed for the door to his office; leaving the three partners to just stare at each other in surprise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Old Man_ is a reference to characters in various Robert Heinlein books, namely Sam’s father in the Puppet Masters, and Jubal Harshaw in Stranger in a Strange Land.
> 
> Melvin’s character is a reference to the movie Melvin & Howard. Melvin is the rather ordinary, nondescript guy that unknowingly gives reclusive millionaire/inventor Howard Hughes a ride and gets written into his will.


	6. On a Clear Day, You can see Forever

Duo stared at the closed door to Howard’s office for a long moment, looking rather as if he was in shock. Zechs wasn’t sure whether to laugh, or sigh at the knowledge that the old man was right. They were burning out. 

“Come on.” He tugged on Duo’s shoulder. “Let’s go.” 

“But-” Dazed blue eyes looked up at him. “He kicked us out? I can’t believe he kicked us out.”

“He did.” Zechs finally got the younger man on his feet. “Doro, come on.”

“But…” she echoed Duo, glancing from them to the laptop in obvious indecision. “What about Epyon?”

“Let’s take a break, get some dinner, and then maybe try to think about this again then,” Zechs pushed quietly. After a moment, she nodded and pulled her hand away from the laptop. But she didn’t move to get up, just stared at the computer for a moment. “Doro. Go ahead and bring it if you’d feel better.”

“I…” Her eyes met Duo’s startled ones. “It’s not that I don’t trust your friend not to- to hurt it.”

“It’s not like he can talk to Epyon without you anyway; so what good would leaving it behind do?” Duo reassured her with a faint grin. “Bring it. Maybe Epyon wants to spend a day at the beach too, and this was all just some ploy so we’d bring it to Jamaica.”

Zechs just rolled his eyes. Looking more than a little relieved, Dorothy tucked the computer back into its carry case and threw the strap over one shoulder. 

“So, now where to?”

“I don’t know. There’s this thing called sunlight that I haven’t seen in a while.” Zechs smiled at his partners. “And it’s been a long time since I walked on a beach.”

“Last beach I was on-” Duo smiled lopsidedly. “I tried to rescue your sister from Heero. Man, was that a stupid plan on my part. And I’d never even seen the ocean before.”

“Well, I appreciate the sentiment, even if neither of them do,” Zechs sighed, and led the way out of the hanger. 

* * * 

Dorothy glanced at her companions as they walked. Zechs was looking up over the green hills towards Blue Peak, while Duo gazed in fascinated delight at the waves to their left. Now that they had taken a moment to pause, she realized just how exhausted she was. And it was all too plain now, why Duo had simply shut down and let them take him home that first night. 

It felt good to just let go of the stress of the job and the worry about what would happen if Lady Une found out about Epyon and what the guys could do. And it was a relief to be able to talk to someone else about what they were doing. _Even if he was mostly just humoring us._ She sighed. “Your friend isn’t going to be calling someone to take us to the local asylum, is he?”

Duo blinked, then looked at her. “Nah. He’s cool. And he actually started to believe us once you showed him Epyon.”

“That’s good,” she muttered. _I think._  
They followed the curve of the beach, until the town of Montego Bay was out of sight behind the hills. There were boats on the water, but none close enough to shore to see people. No one else was on this stretch of beach. 

She closed her eyes for a moment, letting the weight of guilt and responsibility slip away for the first time in nearly a year. _You can’t bring the people back that were on Hawaii,_ she told herself. _All you can do is protect the peace now, find atonement for those you can— and see that war never touches this place._

A hand touched her shoulder, as arms slipped around her from behind in a gentle hug. “You okay?”

“Just thinking too much.” 

“It’s not Hawaii,” he said quietly.

“How did you-?” She turned her head, but Zechs was looking over her shoulder into the distant horizon. Duo stood at the edge of the water, his back to them as he watched the waves lap over the toes of his boots.

“Did you think you were the one that bore that guilt?” His voice was raw. “You fired on my command. It was my madness that killed those people. Not yours.”

“I could have refused.”

“Could you have?” he asked quietly. She hesitated, and shook her head with a shiver.

“What happened— happened. Nothing we do now will ever change that.” He sighed. “But if we prevent it from ever happening again, then maybe they didn’t die in vain.” His words echoed her thoughts, and she realized that he truly did understand the pain she felt; understood and shared the guilt. More weight slipped from her shoulders, and she let herself relax slightly and feel the warm breeze against her face. Dorothy closed her eyes with a sigh.

* * *

Duo stared out at the water, remembering all too well the vertigo he’d felt at first seeing the ocean. It had been almost three years since he came to Earth. In two weeks, it would be Christmas again, and there would have been peace for a whole year. The thought made him smile a little. _It’s so quiet here… so peaceful. It’s hard to believe that there even was a war._

Hearing soft murmurs behind him, he glanced back to see Zechs standing with his arms around Dorothy. Her eyes were closed, but her face was relaxed for the first time in weeks. They looked good together. Zechs was staring out at the sea again, but even his face looked more peaceful then Duo had seen it in weeks. _No ghosts here, except maybe ours._

Turning away to give his partners a little privacy, Duo crouched down and ran his fingers through the warm, white sand of the beach. There was nothing like this on L2, and he found himself marveling as the fine grains slipped through his fingers; blowing out in a thin spray in the breeze. Feeling the warmth of the sun on his back, Duo peeled off the too warm jacket. 

“Someone’s got the right idea,” Zechs muttered behind him. When he glanced back, his partners were no longer standing together. Zechs shrugged out of his own jacket, then reached for Epyon’s case strap so that Dorothy could do the same. Jackets were tossed in a heap well out of the reach of the water, half covering Epyon. 

“Hard to believe it’s almost Christmas again,” Dorothy said as she stretched in the sunlight. “It’s hot out here.”

“Feels good,” Duo shrugged. “L2 was always cold, even in the summer.”

“Hmm.” Dorothy frowned, then sighed and kicked off her shoes. “I haven’t been to a beach since I was a child. Before I went to live with my grandparents.” 

“L2 doesn’t have beaches.” Duo smiled a little. “Solo told me about them once— when he was telling fairy tales to the little kids. Said we’d see one someday.” To his surprise, Zechs laughed. “What?”

“He was right.” Zechs glanced at the empty space to Duo’s left. “I think the experience is a little more than he was expecting though.”

Duo smiled; relieved that Solo was there, even if he couldn’t see him. Dorothy stripped off her socks, rolling the faded jeans up a little.

“What are you doing?” Duo asked curiously. Zechs grinned at him and started to follow her example. 

“Take your shoes off,” Zechs ordered with a mock glare. “And your socks.”

“Why?” Duo stared back at him in bewilderment.

“You’ve never been to a beach before,” Dorothy answered. 

“Attempting to save my sister from herself doesn’t count. And that was at night anyway,” Zechs added. “Come on— or do we have to pin you down and take them off for you?”

Duo felt his eyes widening, even as Dorothy’s grin turned almost feral. “What does being barefoot have to do with never being on a beach before— I’m taking them off already, jeez!” He hastily bent to untie the heavy combat boots he still wore. 

“Good.” Dorothy grinned. “And it’s good to know at least one threat works against you.” 

“Oh, God, now I’ve done it,” Duo muttered as he kicked the boots into a pile with Zechs’ and Dorothy’s. “Why are we doing this again?”

“Because it’s a beautiful day, we’re off duty, out of uniform and standing on a beach.” Zechs shrugged. “Is that enough reasons?” He eyed Duo with a smirk. “You might want to roll your pants legs up too.”

Duo looked suspiciously from Zechs to Dorothy, but did as the older man suggested. “I thought swimming suits were normal attire for a beach.”

“If you own one, sure,” Dorothy shrugged. “But none of us thought to bring one.”

“Hmm. True,” Duo frowned, then looked down at his feet. “This feels really weird.”

Dorothy just smiled, before grabbing his arm and dragging him out into the water. 

* * *

Zechs grinned at the expression on Duo’s face as Dorothy coaxed him into the cool water. His face went from puzzled to appreciative almost instantly. _Yeah. He’s been on a beach before, but there’s a difference between standing in the water, fully dressed at night, and standing barefoot in the water with the sun shining down on you. And no mission._

“Like it?” Zechs asked as he moved to stand beside them and look out at the waves.

“Yeah,” Duo grinned. “A little weird, but cool. I’d always wondered what the attraction was before.”

“That’s the idea,” Dorothy smiled, the last of the stress from Epyon’s nightmares leaving her face. “Too bad we don’t have suits though. It would be fun to go deeper.” 

“You think?” Zechs tried to resist the impulse—for all of a minute. Dorothy yelped as he caught her around the waist and they plunged farther into the water. She came up spitting, glaring at him despite the grin on her face.

“Alright, this means war,” she warned, as he prudently moved back towards where Duo stood watching.

“Um… aren’t we supposed to be peacekeepers?” Duo asked, as he tried to keep Zechs from hiding behind him while Dorothy stalked them through knee deep water. Her clothes were molded to her body now, and she shoved a mass of dripping gold hair out of her way as her eyes narrowed. “Or… something… Hey! I didn’t have anything to do with…” he broke off as she sent a wave of water towards him, then waded deeper to retaliate in kind. 

* * *

Howard looked up as Melvin walked into the office, a grin on his face. 

“Did you see them?”

“Oh, yeah. I saw them,” Melvin snickered.

“What are they doing?” Howard asked suspiciously. “I swear if they’re moping around the hotel…”

“They’re about a mile down the beach, outside of town.” Melvin shook his head.

“What is so damn funny, Melvin?” Howard glared at his right hand man. “Oh, don’t tell me they’re having sex on the beach or something.”

“Not quite.” Melvin gave up on snickering and just started laughing instead. 

“Not quite?” Howard raised one eyebrow in warning. “Spill, man.”

“I think they’re having a water fight.” Melvin threw him an angelic look. “I didn’t get really close, like you said, but they were all out in the water, splashing around like they were about five.”

Howard tried to process that image, and suddenly regretted having sent Melvin out to make sure the three agents had managed to find a place to stay. _I knew I should have gone myself._ “Well, it’s about damn time,” he finally muttered. “I swear I have never met three people that had less of a childhood, and that includes Heero Yuy.”

Melvin snickered again. “I think they’ve made up for lost time, boss.”

Howard just sighed and waved the man out. When he was alone, he sat staring at the vid-phone for a long moment before reaching out to dial. When it was finally answered, it still took him a few seconds to decide what to say.

“Hey. We’ve got a problem.”

* * *

Treize glanced around the beach, then settled down near the pile of computer and jackets; a spot where he could watch the three playing in the water, and also watch Solo. The younger ghost was standing at the edge of the water, watching their living companions wistfully. The pain and longing in Solo’s eyes was heartbreaking.

‘Solo…’ Treize called, then hesitated. He wasn’t sure there was anything he could say that would ease the younger man’s pain.  
Solo turned a sullen look in his direction. ‘What?’

‘Are you alright?’ He regretted the words almost as soon as they were out of his mouth. Solo’s gray eyes narrowed as he glared at Treize.

‘What kinda stupid question is that?’ Solo grumbled, turning his back on the three in the water. ‘I’m fuckin’ dead!’

‘Yes,’ Treize sighed. ‘But I would think you would be used to that by now. I am, and you’ve been dead a lot longer.’

Solo scowled, his anger fading back into longing as he kicked at one of the rippling waves. His foot passed though the water without disturbing it. With a last longing look at the waves, Solo turned and moved across the beach to where Treize sat; dropping weightlessly onto the sand beside him. 

‘You’d think so, wouldn’t ya?’ Now he sounded more wistful than angry. ‘It’s just that… we never had beaches, and sunlight like this. Water as far as you could see…’ He shrugged. ‘I woulda given anythin’ to be here with Duo while I was alive. One of the guys— he had a picture he lifted from some guy’s house of a beach. He gave it to me when I was nine. I used ta take it out and look at it, when things got really bad. And I’d tell the little ones about beaches. I always wanted to see sand. And real sunlight. I thought that’d be enough, to just see it for real someday.’ His voice dropped to a whisper, as he looked down at the beach beneath them. ‘But it’s not. I can see it now. And I would still give anythin’… to touch it… feel the water…’

‘We always want what we can’t have,’ Treize muttered, looking at Zechs as he spoke. 

‘Ya miss being able to touch him, don’t ya?’ Solo threw him a curious look. 

‘Yes,’ Treize said quietly. ‘But then, I missed that when I was still alive.’

‘Yeah.’ Solo frowned. ‘Bein’ dead— it’s good for nothing but showing ya all the things ya never had. Or cain’t have again.’

‘Perhaps.’ Treize shrugged. ‘Though our being dead has helped them out a few times, so it’s not a complete waste.’

Solo just sighed, and ran phantom fingers across the white sand.


	7. Paradise by the Dashboard Light

The sun was just starting to sink towards the horizon when the three Preventers gave up the water war and collapsed in the shallowest waves of the swash zone. All three were panting, even as they grinned at each other in contented exhaustion. 

Zechs had fallen half on top of Duo, pinning the American to the damp sand; it was taking all of his willpower to resist the urge to kiss the younger man. Wet hair, now crusted with sand, had escaped the braid and was clinging in long strands to Duo’s face and neck; as well as twining with strands of Dorothy’s loose hair where she lay with her head on Maxwell’s shoulder. Zechs levered himself up on one elbow, and just admired the decadent sight below him for a few moments. 

Duo cracked open dark eyes and met his gaze. For a split second, Zechs could see an answering desire in his eyes before they shuttered again. 

“Okay, would one of you two like to explain why you wanted me to roll my pant legs up? It obviously wasn’t so that my clothes would stay dry,” Maxwell muttered finally.

“Well, oh Fearless Leader?” Dorothy threw him an accusing look. “As I believe the water fight was your doing, I’ll let you answer this one.”

“Um…” Zechs tried to look innocent. “It seemed like a good idea at the time?”

Duo just sighed. Dorothy patted his shoulder as she levered herself up. 

“Ugh. Wet jeans.” She grimaced. “Fun as that was, next time you better wait until I’m wearing a swimming suit, Zechs.” She glanced at the sunset, then back up the beach towards the town. “Especially since we still have a long walk back to the hotel, in very wet clothes. And it will be dark soon.” 

“True.” Zechs sobered a little. “And I’m getting hungry now.”

“So am I.” Duo leaned up on his elbows and surveyed his partners as they stood above him. “You know, it’s probably a good thing Une can’t see us right now.”

“What, you think soaking wet, slightly sunburned, and covered in sand isn’t the image the Preventers should cultivate?”

“Uh— actually, now that you mention it, no.” Duo grinned. 

“I don’t know. I kind of like it.” Zechs smirked, eyeing his partners with a leer. “Maybe I should try this more often.” 

“Try it in Sanck, and I’ll kill you.” Dorothy reached down a hand to Duo. “Hypothermia is not my idea of a good time.”

“Not to mention that if we do this anywhere near the same continent as Lady Une, she’ll kill us before hypothermia has a chance to set in.” Duo shrugged. “Hm. Think they’re going to let us back in the hotel looking like this? I really don’t want to sleep on the beach tonight.”

“This is a beach resort.” Zechs grinned. “I’m sure this will not be the first time they have had guests return to the hotel looking like they’ve been rolling around in the surf.”

“I think I am beginning to understand why Howard has a hanger facing the beach.” Duo rolled his eyes as they began throwing on jackets and shoes. Dorothy just sighed and picked up Epyon. 

* * *

They made it back to the hotel before full dark, despite the exhaustion that all three were feeling. _I think next time we decide to let off steam and shirk responsibility to play around , we ought to pick a spot much closer to where we intend to sleep,_ Dorothy mused silently as she stepped out of the shower. 

Quickly toweling off, she shoved damp hair out of her way and threw on spare clothes. They had packed lightly, not expecting to spend any time not working on repairing Epyon; but long habit of travelling with Relena had prompted her to pack at least one dress. She pulled it on, saving the last pair of jeans and tee-shirt for the long day in store tomorrow. Epyon’s case was sitting on the single bed in her room, a silent reminder of why they had come to this island paradise. She touched the case silently, before knocking softly on the door adjoining her room to the one Zechs and Duo were sharing. 

Duo opened the door, a half-finished braid in one fist. He was dressed much more casually than she was; though this pair of jeans was at least whole and not ripped. 

“Hey, Doro. Zechs should be out of the shower in a sec.” He waved her in before settling down on one of the two beds that had been shoved together in the middle of the room to finish braiding his hair. 

“Good. I’m starving.” She settled down on the other bed, lying back with a tired sigh.

“Don’t fall asleep.” He raised one eyebrow. “I’m not carrying you to dinner.”

“Of course not,” She said with a smirk. “Zechs is the one that exhausted us; he can carry me to dinner.”

“I seem to remember you as an active participant in the wave war.” Zechs stepped out of the bathroom, his silver-blond hair hanging in a damp tail down his back. “God, I’m starving.”

“Yes, well. Both of _us_ are ready to go and waiting; so that sounds like a personal problem to me.” Dorothy grinned to take the sting out of the words. 

Duo glanced up as he tied off the end of the braid, and groaned softly. “Why is it every time we go out to dinner, you guys dress up and I feel like a refugee from a homeless shelter?”

“Because you have a larger collection of comfortable clothing than we do?” Dorothy rolled her eyes. “I’ll trade clothes with you, if it would make you feel better.”

“Somehow I don’t see that helping,” Duo muttered sarcastically. “Then I would just look like the homeless person in drag that you found in the street.”

“Just remember that I offered.” She accepted the hand Zechs offered her and stood up stiffly. 

***  
Dinner proved to be an extravagant buffet on an open porch overlooking the ocean. Tables were set around the multi-leveled, torch-lined patios; except for the one closest to the beach where a live band was setting up and a few couples were already dancing to canned Reggae. Duo looked dazed at the sheer amount of food laid out, even though most of the diners had already gone through the line by the time they reached the buffet. 

“They do this every night?” 

“Only on Fridays and Saturdays,” a waitress said as she passed by them with trays of drinks. “The party will last probably well past midnight.”

“So much for getting to sleep early,” Dorothy groaned.

“Oh, yeah, like we ever go to bed early.” Duo rolled his eyes, and headed straight for the buffet. “Though I am tired enough, I could probably sleep though a Gundam attack right now.”

“Oh, now there’s a comforting thought.” Zechs shook his head as he gestured gallantly for her to follow Duo towards the food. _Though it’s about damned time for one of you to sleep the night through._

Once armed with full plates, they retreated to a lower patio where there were fewer torches and diners. The three sat in the shadows, eating and simply relaxing. No one seemed to pay much attention to them, or to have recognized either Zechs as a former Prince of Sanck or Duo as a former Gundam pilot. _I don’t think any of us have relaxed this much in years— if ever. Maybe Dr. Po is right to insist that we take time away from work to recharge._

‘Do you think?’ Treize sighed. ‘I believe I argued that point just as frequently with you, and you certainly never listened to my advice.’ 

_‘I listened to your advice. I just didn’t follow it.’_

‘Just as you aren’t following it right now,’ Treize shook his head in disgust. ‘Here you are, on a tropical resort with two very attractive people that you are very close to, and you haven’t allowed a shred of romance into your soul. Ask one of them to dance… or at the very least kiss one of them.’

_‘Doing either of those things would interfere with our being able to inhale food,’_ Zechs glared at his friend as he answered. _‘Three of us here still need to eat, and we missed lunch trying to decipher your mess. And I seriously doubt that any of us have the energy to dance, even to Reggae.’_

‘Since I have no idea what Epyon is trying to tell us, I refuse to consider whatever is going on with it to be my mess.’ Treize sighed. ‘I just don’t want you to regret it— in case the worst happens.’ 

_‘You mean if one of them dies.’_ Zechs stared soberly at his friend, his appetite suddenly gone. 

‘You are just as much at risk of that as either of them are,’ Treize smiled sadly. ‘I would much rather have spent the last twelve months in your arms, rather than looking over your shoulder. I don’t want you to make the same mistake I did.’ 

_‘Which was?’_

_‘Letting pride and duty drive us apart. Not holding onto the best thing in my life with both hands, even when I could still touch it.’_

_‘It took both of us to screw up our relationship._ ’ Zechs picked up his glass of wine, and looked blindly into the blood red depths. _‘I let go too. You aren’t the only one that has regrets. And I am holding onto them with both hands, way too tightly to want to risk driving one of them away.’_

Treize sighed. ‘I’m sorry. I shouldn’t push you. It is your life, after all. And you are the one who gets to live it.’ 

_‘I’m sorry too…’_ Zechs looked away from his friend, to see Duo and Dorothy both watching him uncomfortably. “What?” 

“Is everything okay?” Duo finally managed. “You look a little—” 

“Upset,” Dorothy finished for him. “Is something up with Treize or Solo?” 

“Treize and I were having an old argument.” Zechs didn’t elaborate, and neither of his partners pushed. 

The rest of the meal passed in a slightly more subdued silence. Treize had left to join Solo, who was walking on the beach alone; and the rest of them were quickly losing what little energy they had gotten from their second wind. 

* * * 

The morning light woke Zechs, and he lay still as it flooded into the room through pale curtains. Duo made a sleepy sound of protest and curled even farther into his shoulder and the sheets. Dorothy was simply completely oblivious on the other shoulder. _We made it through a night with no nightmares. Of course, considering how exhausted we all were, that should not be that much of a surprise._ Glancing at the clock, he saw that they still had several hours before they were due back at Howard’s workshop. 

Careful not to wake his two bed partners, he snuggled a little deeper into the pillows and simply savored the chance to relax. _Okay, that does it. We’re going to start having regular days off if it kills us._ Duo sighed and curled up a little more, so that his head was now resting on Zechs’ chest rather than his shoulder. Flexing his numb arm slightly, he curved it along the younger man’s back and stroked lightly down the long braid. _I could get used to waking up like this— what am I saying? I am used to waking up like this now. Treize, I am so damn sorry I never gave you this. Not that Leia and I ever would have been as comfortable with this sort of arrangement as Dorothy and Duo seem to be. Of course, this isn’t technically a romantic relationship either. That might change everything._ For some reason, that thought saddened him a little. _But that’s the way I want it. Isn’t it? Do I want something more? But what about what they want? Do they even want more than this?_

“Hmm.” Duo shifted again, then cracked one eye open slightly; startling him out of his thoughts. “What’imzit?” 

“Early.” Zechs smothered a grin at the annoyed look on his partner’s face. “Go back to sleep.” 

“Too bright,” Duo muttered softly, yawning. Blinking sleep out of his eyes, he tilted his head up to meet Zechs gaze. “What’re you doing awake, anyway?” 

“Enjoying myself.” 

Duo looked startled, then suddenly blushed. “Pervert.” 

“Me? I was just lying here innocently, enjoying the fact that we could sleep in and that I wasn’t going to be spending the next ten hours talking to murder victims.” His grin widened a little more. “You are the one whose thoughts apparently went in that direction.” 

“Everybody’s thoughts went in that direction,” Dorothy muttered from his other shoulder. “Somebody needs to put a dimmer switch on the sun.” 

“Sorry. Next time I’ll ask for a room with no windows.” 

“You…do that…” Dorothy sighed, tugging the sheet over her head and squirming against him into a more comfortable position. “Ow. Stop working out, man.” 

Duo just started snickering helplessly. Zechs groaned softly, suddenly realizing that being cuddled up against two people while sleeping might be comforting, but doing it while awake was only reminding his body how long it had been since he’d last had sex. _Oh God…not now._  
*** 

Howard glanced up at as the three Preventers finally straggled into the hangar. _Well, they look better than they did yesterday; less like something from all of those zombie movies Duo watched as a kid._ All three were showing faint signs of sunburn, and they all still looked half asleep, but it was no longer painfully obvious that they were suffering from acute sleep deprivation. 

“Good morning,” he greeted them from where he was bent over a partially disemboweled laptop. Melvin just waved from the other side of the table, where he was sorting through capacitors and motherboards. 

“Heya, Howard…” Duo smothered a yawn, and moved over to look at what he was working on. “Hi Melvin.” 

“Mornin’ kid.” 

Zechs and Dorothy both nodded greetings to the two Sweepers as they took seats at the table. 

“Did you all eat?” 

“Yes, dad,” Duo rolled his eyes. “We showered, ate, slept, ate again…” 

“You left out the bit about cavorting in the surf,” Melvin added helpfully, snickering at the embarrassed looks that comment garnered. 

“You were spying on us?” Duo frowned at the man as soon as his blush died down. 

“No. I was looking for you to make sure you had a place to stay for the night,” Melvin sighed. “But you looked a little busy at the time, so I decided to just go ask the hotel instead.” 

“Gee. Thanks.” 

“You’re welcome.” 

“Okay,” Howard interrupted them to gesture to the other worktable, which had been cleared of everything but a few large charts. “Since you three are still planning to fly out this evening, we’re going to have to work fast. Take a look at that and see what you think. Ms. Catalonia, if you would go with Melvin—” 

“Dorothy.” She shook her head. “Just Dorothy, please.” 

“Dorothy, then. If you would go with Melvin, he needs to get some more info from you.” 

“He knows?” 

“I told you we weren’t going to be able to finish this today.” Howard shook his head. “I’m an engineer, not a miracle worker. Someone’s going to have to give me a hand once you three traipse back to Purgatory.” 

“Preventers, not Purgatory.” 

“For normal, average humans it’s Preventers.” Howard lifted his sunglasses to fix Zechs with a scowl. “For you six— I personally think Purgatory is a little more fitting.” 

“Purgatory?” Dorothy blinked, looking rather confused. 

“Isn’t that where dead people go to wait for judgement, and suffer in atonement for sins?” Duo shook his head. “We aren’t dead. Okay, well, most of us aren’t dead.” 

“Looks like half and half to me, assuming the rest of you don’t work yourself into an early grave.” Howard shoved his sunglasses down again and shook his head. “And you all seem to be suffering one way or another on your way to atoning for sins.” 

“Huh,” Duo laughed. “Purgatory, hm? Think Une’d go for the name change?” 

“Somehow I don’t think she has that much of a sense of humor about us,” Zechs sighed. “But I suppose the name is fitting, now that you mention it.” 

“Of course it is, or I _wouldn’t_ have mentioned it,” Howard grumbled sarcastically. “If we could get started? You are the same three that were in such an all-fired hurry yesterday, yes? Or did the pods get you when you went to sleep last night?” 

“Maybe the pods got them on the beach yesterday,” Melvin snorted as he led Dorothy towards Howard’s office. 

“Naw…” Duo shook his head. “Couldn’t have. None of us went to sleep on the beach. Must be something in the air here. Pollen or something.” 

“Pods?” Zechs shook his head. “Never mind. Forget I asked.” 

“I see Duo hasn’t subjected you to his movie collection yet,” Howard shook his head. 

“Not yet.” Zechs glanced at Duo curiously. “We haven’t had much time to watch movies.” 

“Feel lucky while you can, then,” Howard grinned. “All right now. What does …uh… Treize think about this?” 

*** 

Zechs glanced up from the diagrams in front of him as someone placed a plate of sandwiches on the table, followed by a large selection of candy bars, chip bags and more beer. To his surprise, it was well after noon. His stomach, sensing food was near, began complaining vigorously about deprivation. 

“Bella- you are the love of my life!” Duo threw the woman who had brought in the food a grateful smile as he sank into a seat next to Zechs. “When are you going to leave Alonzo and marry me?” 

“I’m the love of your life now?” The woman threw him a mock glare. “I thought I was the scourge of Peacemillion and the bane of your existence.” 

“Well, yeah. But this is Jamaica. That whole incident with the black dye, the scissors and the lemming was a long time ago. And you brought food.” 

‘Lemming?’ Treize raised one eyebrow as he and Zechs both turned to look at Duo. ‘Do I even want to know?’ 

_‘Probably not,’_ Zechs answered uncertainly. _‘I’m pretty sure I don’t want to know.’_

“That I did. Make sure you share. Your new partners are apparently just as underfed as you.” She glared at Zechs as well as Duo as she said that, then turned and stalked out of the hanger. 

_‘I think it’s a good thing she can’t see Solo, or we’d be in big trouble,’_ Zechs frowned a little. _‘Where is Solo, anyway?’_

‘Keeping an eye on Dorothy,’ Treize smiled. ‘Apparently Melvin is scanning the implant with every available diagnostic tool in existence, and possibly even a few invented last night for just this purpose.’ 

“What the hell do you need so many scans of Epyon’s implant for?” Zechs wondered as he turned to look at Howard in confusion. 

The older man blinked, and then swore softly. “Now that’s just damned freaky. Guess you guys were telling the truth after all.” 

“You doubted us? Howard, I’m mortally wounded…” Duo put down the sandwich he’d been about to take a bite of. “What scans?” 

“You’ll live,” Howard said drily. “And I didn’t doubt you. It’s just one thing to know something and another thing entirely to see proof of it.” 

“Uh-huh.” Duo rolled his eyes. “What did you think, Zechs was just making up this crap out of thin air?” 

“You might have been remembering stuff he told you before he died…” 

“If you thought we were delusional, why the hell haven’t the men in white coats come to take us to a nice safe padded cell?” 

“I didn’t think you were delusional— exactly,” Howard huffed. “And I wouldn’t do that to my boy anyway. As for the scans, I’m still trying to figure out how Epyon talks to Dorothy, and how she can do that computer thing without using the keyboard. I figured if I’m going to figure out how to fix this thing, I’d better know all there is to know about it.” 

“But I thought you didn’t care anything about bioengineering.” 

“I’ve never needed to before. Besides, that’s what Melvin’s for.” Howard shook his head. “Eat, Duo.” 

Duo frowned thoughtfully at the engineer, and even Zechs could tell the old man was hiding something from them; it was equally clear, however, that he had no intention of telling them what that something was. 

Less than a half an hour later, Dorothy and Melvin returned, and Zechs forgot the odd conversation as they threw themselves back into the work of rebuilding Epyon. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The reference to pods is from Invasion of the Body Snatchers. The aliens get you when you go to sleep, and replace you with pod-grown clones.


	8. Ouija Boards and Wishing Wells

Dorothy frowned as she shifted position for what had to be the eighth time in an as many minutes, trying to find some position in the narrow seat that was comfortable. _They’ve been designing airplanes for how many years and they still can’t figure out a seat design that is comfortable after the first thirty minutes in the air? Obviously, engineers need to fly commercial jets a little more frequently. And these are the first class seats._ She smothered a laugh at the mental image of Howard and his lackeys crammed into the coach section of the plane behind them. _On second thought, maybe not. The flight attendants would need dark glasses to see past the glare from his shirt, and they’d probably end up pouring drinks on everyone._

Closing the book she’d been rather unsuccessfully trying to read, she glanced over to see how her companions were faring. Duo was curled up in the center seat, his head resting on Zechs shoulder, and his braid clutched tightly in one hand. The other hand was curled loosely in Zechs lap, though the older man was equally oblivious. After the first time Duo had accidentally touched the seat with his bare hands, only to discover that someone terrified of flying had had the seat before him, he’d carefully avoided touching anything else on the plane. 

She sighed, wishing she dared try to sleep as well. But one night without dreams was not enough to convince her that they had stopped. _Duo didn’t dream last night either. And I know his nightmares always return within a few days. Best not to chance it. I do not want to give the rest of the people on the plane a heart attack if I start screaming again._

Squirming around in her seat in order to rest her head against the window, she amused herself by watching her partners sleep. Duo looked so young next to Zechs, though she knew he was only a year younger than she was. It had to be because Zechs was so damn tall— and he had that royal martyr air that seemed to come naturally to his family; for once, thoughts of his family didn’t hurt. _I’m glad Relena finally made peace with both of us. Even if things are still strained, it’s better than outright hostility. And I’d still like to know what she heard that made her think Zechs and I were a couple. For that matter, I’d like to know why Lowell thought the guys would hurt him if he asked me out._

“Penny for your thoughts?” Zechs voice was soft, so as not to disturb Duo.

“It’s going to cost you more than a penny.” She snorted. “I’ll have you know I’m not cheap.”

“No— not after having dragged us halfway across the planet, you’re not.”

“That wasn’t my idea,” she winced. “Entirely. Besides, you seemed to be having a pretty good time.”

“I was. I’m thinking we should all take days off more often.” 

“That’s not going to make Une happy.”

“I’ve given up trying to make Une happy. I never seem to manage it well.” 

“True.”

“So, what were you thinking so hard about?”

“Just how different this plane ride is from the last one I was on.”

“I would imagine Relena’s private jet is much more comfortable than this one.”

“Comfortable, yes. But I’m enjoying the company on this one much more.”

“I can imagine. By the way, what was Lowell like as a partner?”

“Alright. Actually, he was good.” She smiled faintly. “I don’t think he cared much for Winner and Chang giving me the silent treatment. But he played mediary quite nicely.”

“Think he’d be willing to act as backup for us on occasion?”

“Probably.” She frowned. “Why?”

“Because the three of us are stretched too damn thin. And doing some research into the serial killings down in the harbor district, we need someone down there looking around. Unfortunately, you and I are going to stick out like sore thumbs.”

“And what am I?” Duo asked sleepily, though Dorothy suspected he’d actually been awake for most of the conversation.

“The only one of us experienced enough to pass in that area. But I want you to have backup close by.”

“So you want me to take a rookie?” Duo raised his head slightly. “Une will shit golden eggs before she lets that happen.”

“Lowell isn’t a rookie. Exactly,” Dorothy muttered. 

“No. He isn’t. He is former Alliance, with most of his specialization being in infiltration and security. He’s ex-military, and experienced. Hopefully, he wouldn’t object to working with us on occasion. We are going to have to have backup sometime. And I need Dorothy back on the Sabrello case. I’ve got the Michaels case almost finished, and then I will be free to help out. But the Harbor case is the only one that is still… relatively new and active. I don’t want you alone in that kind of area…with the perp still actively choosing his victims.”

“Uh, I think I can take care of myself,” Duo growled. “I _was_ a gundam pilot.”

“I haven’t forgotten that fact,” Zechs sighed. “But so far, whoever is doing the killings in the harbor area has also taken out two dockworkers, both seasoned brawlers and both outweighing you by well over a hundred pounds. You’re an ex-gundam pilot, not Superman.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll be careful, mom. I promise.”

“Yeah. And you’ll take backup.”

“If you can get Une to agree,” Dorothy sighed.

“Leave that to me.”

“You always say that. What do you have, some incredible blackmail on her or something? C’mon man, share.”

“No,” Zechs laughed. “Go back to sleep, Duo.” 

“Fine. You always keep the good secrets,” Duo pouted briefly, then curled up on Dorothy’s shoulder this time. “See’f I care.”

***

Robert Lowell followed Dorothy into the stairwell and down to the third floor. “I thought Commander Une said there weren’t any offices on the third floor?”

“Just ours.” The blonde glanced over one shoulder at him. “Keeps the other Preventers off her back about us. Out of sight, out of mind, I believe.”

“I don’t think it’s working, entirely,” he muttered, shaking his head. 

“Oh? You were so taken by my company after one mission together that you can’t stop thinking about me?”

“I wasn’t talking about me. I was talking about Connor and Berg. They seem to take everything the three of you do as a personal insult. For some reason I can’t quite seem to figure out.”   
“Don’t strain yourself trying,” she laughed bitterly. “Trying to figure out those two is enough to give anyone with half a brain a headache. I still haven’t figured out how they passed the entrance exams. But we’re still so shorthanded, that they have to take just about anyone right now.” She turned and gestured at the only door on the far side of the stairwell. “Here it is: the only functioning Preventers Homicide Division.”

“I’ve actually been meaning to ask you about that,” he said as she opened the door. “Are you called that because your coworkers think you’re out to kill them? Or because they want to kill you?” 

“Both,” she sighed. “Welcome to Purgatory.”

He stepped into the office, and then blinked in surprise. It was less that he had had no idea what the three of them would consider a working office space, then that the room beyond seemed to fit them so perfectly. The large table directly inside the door was nearly buried beneath files, computers and coffee cups. There was a bulletin board covered with crime scene photos and charts along the wall to his left, next to another door bearing a sign that read ‘Welcome to Purgatory, Abandon Hope all Ye who Enter’. To his right was a battered couch, equally covered with files and papers as the table was.   
Both Duo Maxwell and Zechs Merquise glanced up from the map they were studying as he and Dorothy stepped into the room. Zechs straightened with a sigh, then held out a hand.

“Lowell. Thanks for agreeing to help us out on this one.”

“You’re welcome,” Lowell shook his hand bemusedly. “Though I’m not entirely sure what I’ve agreed to do as yet. Lady Une just told me I’d been assigned to this unit for the next week or so.”

“Ah,” Zechs winced faintly. “That would probably be because I didn’t tell her exactly what we needed you for.”

“And that would be?” Lowell asked soberly. 

Zechs gestured for him to take a seat at the table. Duo flopped back to sprawl on the couch behind them, and Dorothy slipped into a seat at the far end of the table where an odd collection of computers sat.

“I don’t know if you heard about the recent murders in Sanck’s main harbor district?”

“A little. Something about five bodies turning up with odd lacerations and completely drained of blood.”

Zechs sighed. “There have actually been eight murders so far that we can fit to a single pattern. But since at least three of them were of homeless people, the media paid little attention to those.”

“Ah,” Lowell frowned. “If you don’t mind me asking—why exactly is that a Preventers’ matter and not one for the local police?”

“Because four of the eight murdered have not been citizens of Sanck.” Zechs looked up at him curiously. “I don’t know how familiar you are with the trade industry, but while commerce between the colonies and earth is thriving, it is also expensive. Enough so that it is far cheaper and more desirable for international commerce that is not leaving the planet to be carried out in the rather more traditional manner: rail, truck or ship, usually.   
Russia has expanded to cover most of what would have been known in pre colony days as the entire USSR. And it is second only to the Americas in producing grain and textiles for export. But apparently Russian exporters are unhappy about shipping goods to a country where their countrymen are being targeted for rather grisly murders. We have to find the person or people behind this before more than just one country starts refusing to ship goods here. Sanck is small, with little land that is arable for growing crops. We rely on Russian food imports to feed the majority of the population.”

“Right,” Lowell nodded to indicate he understood the importance of the situation. “And my part in this investigation?”

Zechs glanced at Duo, then back at him. “We’ve narrowed down an area near the harbors where most of the victims either lived or worked. But it’s an area where outsiders are likely to be noticed. In order to look around, we’re going to have to send in agents able to blend into the environment. Dorothy and I are rather conspicuous. Duo is going in, but I wanted him to have backup. And two people can cover more territory than one.”

“We’d be undercover?” Lowell considered that for a moment. “What’re the covers? Because you’re right, drawing any negative attention in an area like that will destroy any chance you’ve got of us finding out who’s doing this.”

Zechs looked oddly pleased, as if his words had confirmed something the man had been questioning. “I’ll let you and Duo work that part out. He’s more than familiar with areas like this. Though from what Une has told me of your past record, you have done work like this on several occasions.”

“Similar,” he shrugged. “Not looking for a serial killer, but the undercover part, yes.”

“Good.” 

Lowell had the odd feeling he’d just passed some sort of test with the group, as all three suddenly relaxed. Zechs leaned back in his chair and smiled faintly. 

“Then, as Dorothy said earlier. Welcome to Purgatory.”

***

**Narrow corridors… the metal walls bowed inwards near the far end… around the door to the… ‘…helmets on…looks like there was an explosion… No telling…what the structural… beyond the door….’ Static cuts the words, leaching sense and leaving only the urgency. ‘Colony… fucking deathtrap… the fuck… stays in orbit…’**

**“Don’t open the door!” Sound is ripped apart, as the walls bow farther inwards… blood… a face frozen in horror, eyes gone and blood in icy chunks around blue lips…**

Dorothy woke, the scream still echoing in the darkness even as two sets of arms closed around her. 

“Doro, shh,” Zechs soothed as she shivered. “It’s okay.”

“God…” she gasped, trying not to gag. “Make it stop.”

“We’re trying,” Zechs hugged her close, and she could feel Duo petting her hair from the other side. “What did you dream?”

“I… there was a hallway… and a door. It… looked damaged, somehow. And… there were voices…”

“What did they say?”

“I don’t know… it didn’t make sense. Something about a colony, and an explosion.” She shrugged helplessly, rubbing her hands over her eyes. “Someone was screaming ‘Don’t open the door’, but…”

“That would be you,” Duo muttered softly. “Was that all?”

“No. There was a body floating in space. Dead. Wearing a Preventers’ uniform. And… blood. Lots of blood. Like last time.”

“Does Epyon know if it’s present or future?”

“I… I don’t think so.”

“Duo, start checking the news reports. See if there have been any explosions on any of the colonies in the last week.”

“If it was that old, we’d have heard about it, right?”

“Maybe.” Zechs shrugged. “Maybe not…”

“Right.” With a last hug for her, Duo heaved himself off the bed and headed for the living room. Dorothy sighed, relaxing a little as the dream faded. 

“Well, this little experiment didn’t work,” Dorothy muttered bitterly. “Apparently distance doesn’t matter.” They had left Epyon at Preventers Headquarters and returned to Zechs’ apartment, in a last attempt to get a full night’s sleep. Epyon’s nightmares were getting more frequent, and much more violent. “I hope Howard comes up with something soon.”

Zechs nodded. “Me too. Come on, none of us are going to get any more sleep tonight. Take a shower, and I’ll start breakfast.”

“You spoil us rotten,” she muttered, crawling towards the foot of the bed. 

“I try.” 

***

By the time she emerged from the shower, Zechs had breakfast on the table. Duo was on the vidphone to Howard in Jamaica.

“Man, we’re running out of time here. How much longer before you have something?”

“It’s not like I’m trying to repair the warp drive on the bloody Enterprise,” Howard snapped. “But we’re close. We’ll be in Sanck by the end of the week. I promise.” 

“Thanks, man,” Duo sighed. “You and Melvin are fucking geniuses.”

“Thank us if this works,” Howard growled. “We’ve no guarantee that any of this will help in the slightest. Still, if we’ve interpreted Khushrenada’s original design plans correctly, we should at least be able to fine-tune and extend Epyon’s range. That may not be the best thing for you guys.”

“We’ll worry about that when you get here,” Duo sighed. “I’ll be out in the field, and we still don’t want Une to know about this. You have Zechs’ phone number, right?”

“Of course,” Howard nodded. “We don’t exactly want to advertise our presence there either. We’ll be discreet.”

“Oh, yeah. I’ve got to see that one,” Zechs muttered to Dorothy as he placed a loaded plate in front of her. She smothered a shaky laugh behind one hand. 

“Thanks Old Man,” Duo grinned at the old engineer. 

“You’re welcome. Take care of Mary.” Howard winked at him, and then disconnected. 

“Mary?” Dorothy asked curiously. 

“Howard gets delusional sometimes,” Duo shrugged. “But if he starts calling me Sam, strip and run for the hills.”

“Strip?” Zechs froze, then stared at their partner in confusion.

“Howard’s version of the Bible is an ancient copy of the Puppet Masters.” Duo laughed. “Old science fiction is something of an obsession with him.”

“And it isn’t with you?” Zechs frowned. “Howard told me about your vid collection and passion for old B grade horror movies.”

“Hey, some of those are classics.” 

“And some of them are really, really bad, apparently.” Zechs shook his head. “Did you find anything in the news?”

“Not yet.” Duo shrugged. “You can do a more thorough search when you get back to Purgatory.”

“You aren’t going in with us?”

“Naw. Got word from Lowell that he’s in place and his cover’s secure. So now it’s my turn.” 

“Will you be back tonight?” Dorothy asked softly.

“Probably not for a few nights. That’s when it’s the most crucial for my cover that I be seen around that area.”

“You will try to sleep sometime. Right?” Zechs asked soberly. 

“I’ll try to slip back to Purgatory for a few hours at least during the day, but no guarantees.”

“Right,” Zechs sighed. “Be careful, Duo.”

“I will.”


	9. Under the Bridge

Duo shivered, pulling his jacket closer around himself. He was half crouched in the shelter under the bridge where he’d spent the previous night. _Where the hell is he?_

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Lowell asked quietly, as he emerged from the shadows of the alley. “We can find another way.”

“I’m okay,” Duo muttered. “I grew up living in alleys. This is nothing new.”

“Right.” Lowell didn’t press it, for which Duo was intensely grateful. “In that case, here.” He thrust a small bundle at Duo. 

“What’s this?” Duo blinked down at the worn bundled blanket.

“It’s a blanket.” Lowell grinned at Duo’s stunned look. “It’s actually three blankets, there’s a thermal one sewn between the other two.”

“Why?”

“If you’re going to be watching my back while we stake this area out, I’d rather you weren’t a popsicle,” Lowell shrugged. “The outer blankets are worn enough, you’ll look like any other street person.”

“Thanks,” Duo wrapped the blanket around his shoulders, and felt the immediate relief from the wind. 

“No problem.” Lowell glanced at his watch. “I’m taking the north end tonight. You good here?”

“I’m fine,” Duo ignored the concerned look the older man gave him. “You don’t have to baby me, Lowell. I can handle myself in the field.”

“I don’t doubt that,” Lowell sighed. “I just would imagine even former Gundam pilots have to sleep sometime.”

“You’d think,” Duo managed a faint laugh. “But I don’t intend to sleep anytime soon. So go skulk out your own area.”

“Watch your back.” A moment later the man was gone, fading into the shadows as efficiently as Duo could have. _Damn good thing we never ran up against him in the war._

* * *

Duo grimaced a little, as true night fell and the temperature dropped even more. _Great. Back where I always promised myself I’d never be again: cold, hungry and alone on the streets._

Shaking his head a little, he huddled closer into his shelter beneath the support struts of the 87th street bridge. The two derelicts he’d displaced earlier that week had finally given up on taking the space back, and the harbor area’s nightlife were only beginning to creep out of the shadows again. For the moment, he truly was alone. 

Pulling the battered collection of ragged blankets closer around him, he moved higher, up to the small alcove just beneath the bridge itself. While colder than the area where he’d been staking his claim since early afternoon, it offered an unparalleled view over a large chunk of the labyrinthine maze that was the Sanck capitol’s Harbor District. 

Sanck, like most cities that ran out of space, had been forced to build up rather than out. The bridge didn’t actually cross water, but was threaded between the buildings in such a way as to bypass the nearly impenetrable harbor area. Only those who worked the docks and the cargo warehouses, and those who lived off of them, ventured into the depths. As a result, the neighborhoods had become small, ethnic islands within the larger city; and a few were quickly turning into slums that would rival L2’s ragged cluster of ancient colonies.

Little Russia, as it was informally known, spread along the southwest edge of the harbor, bordered by Upper Chinatown on the East and Neo-Amsterdam on the West. It covered less than five square miles, but was home to nearly six thousand people. The population ran the full range from dockworkers and their families, sailors in port for a few days, down to what Duo had once named the Lost. They were the derelicts, the runaways and orphans, and the prostitutes; as well as those who preyed upon them.   
_The Lost— I named us that back on L2. Funny how a classy, shiny place like the Sanck Kingdom can still have the dark underbelly that you find anywhere. Guess it just goes to show that there really is no difference between Earth and the Colonies._ The thought only served to depress him more. _We fought the whole damn war to change things, to make them better for everyone. And nothing’s really changed yet. There’s peace, yeah. But for the poor, all that’s really changed is the names of those ignoring the problems._

Shaking himself out of his depressed thoughts, he went back to watching the activities in the alleys below him. Two of the bodies had been found in this area, surprisingly close to each other; though from the lack of blood in or around the bodies, it was evident that they’d been dumped there rather than killed on site. Despite the fact that he didn’t want another murder to occur, he found himself wishing that something would happen to let them find the murderer. _It’s freaking cold out here… and I really miss Zechs and Dorothy._

The brief glimpse he’d had of them as they moved through the harbor district earlier that day had only made the odd sort of homesickness worse. The two had been covering the area dressed in full Preventer gear and asking official questions, to draw any suspicion away from the two newest inhabitants of the district. _Not that anyone paid much attention to me. What’s one more street kid? Lowell’s got the more difficult job, but then, he’s the only one of us besides Dorothy that speaks any Russian at all._

Lowell had used some of his connections to arrange a ride in as a temporary shiphand looking for dockwork. Now, two days later, he was living in a rented room and working in one of the warehouses near the dock. He’d been trying to make friends with some of the workers around him, and pick up information that way. At night, he’d started hitting the pubs and bars, and on occasion the docks themselves. 

Duo had taken the other end of Little Russia, spending the last few days panhandling, and skulking in the alleys with the other homeless. Both were blending into the background easily enough, but so far, neither of them had uncovered much in the way of information about the murders. 

Glancing around, he decided to take advantage of the sheltering darkness to scrounge another sandwich from the supply that Lowell had dropped off out of the battered backpack. It wouldn’t do to be seen carrying food, or he’d have every beggar for five blocks hunting him down. Carefully unwrapping the sandwich Lowell had slipped him, he took a bite and tried not to think about how strange it felt to be working with someone other than his partners. _It’s just temporary. Lowell may be an okay guy, but he’s not part of Purgatory. He’s too sane._ The thought made him smile a little. _He doesn’t have enough ghosts following him around._

But the smile faded quickly as he realized for the first time that he missed Zechs and Dorothy more than he did Trowa. _Of course you do, idiot. They’re your partners. He’s just your best friend, and the partner and lover of someone that doesn’t like you._ But he couldn’t help wondering if Trowa ever missed him. _Am I still his best friend? Or has Yuy taken that title too? And does it even matter anymore? Even if he was here— I’d still be part of Purgatory, and he’d be sane. Like Lowell._

***  
Zechs glanced up as the door opened, and Duo slipped wearily into the room. He had obviously just showered, and his hair had been twisted into a dripping coil rather than its customary braid. 

“You okay?”

“Yeah, just tired.” Duo flopped onto the couch. “How are you guys doing?”

“About the same. We’re supposed to meet Howard tonight. You want to come with us?”

“No, I need to get back out there. Just wanted to grab a few good hours of sleep before Lowell panics and drugs my sandwiches or something.”

“He’d better not even think about it,” Zechs growled, scowling.

“I’m kidding.” Duo grinned wearily. “Shit—I’m too tired to even braid the mess. Gonna grab a nap.” Heaving himself wearily off the couch, he staggered towards the door to Purgatory’s bedroom.

Zechs sighed and followed him into the dark room. “Have you been sleeping at all?”

Duo rolled his eyes. “Yeah, an hour here or there. Out there, that’s all you dare. Otherwise you either freeze to death or get rolled in your sleep.” He didn’t meet Zechs’ eyes, which told the older man exactly what Duo wasn’t saying.

“How bad are the nightmares?”he asked flatly. Duo flinched.

“Huh?”

“Solo told me you’ve been having nightmares about when you were a child on the streets. You aren’t sleeping. How bad?”

“Bad enough,” the younger man sighed. “Out there is not a place you want to wake up screaming.”

“I’d rather you didn’t wake up screaming anywhere.” Zechs shook his head. “Get in bed. I’ll braid your hair for you.”

Duo just stared at him for a minute. “Huh? Why?”

“Because if you go to sleep without even brushing it, it will take half the night to untangle again.” His expression softened a little. “And I have no intention of leaving you here alone to face the nightmares.”

Duo just blinked at him, looking oddly stunned. “But what about your case?” 

“It can wait,” Zechs smiled softly. “Lay down.” Once Duo was settled, Zechs sat down with his back to one of the couches and gathered up the damp mass of chestnut hair. Duo sighed softly as he started to carefully brush out the tangles. Zechs couldn’t help smiling a little, as Duo relaxed visibly.

“Missed you guys,” Duo muttered, more than half asleep already.

“We missed you too.” 

***

‘Ah… now there’s a picture worth a thousand words.’ Treize grinned a little at the annoyed look Zechs threw him. Of course, the glare was considerably less effective than it would have been if Duo hadn’t been curled up in the blond’s lap and holding on to him as if he was a large plush toy. 

“Bite me,” Zechs sighed. 

‘I would if I could.’ Treize shrugged a little philosophically. 

“Dammit Treize, I’m sorry.”

‘Don’t be sorry,’ the ghost sighed. ‘It’s alright.’

“It’s not.” 

‘There’s also nothing to be done about it.’ Treize shook his head. ‘I’m dead. There’s no getting around that, and it wasn’t your fault. It just is.’ Sitting down on the couch behind Zechs, the ghost reached out a phantom hand towards Duo. The younger man flinched in his sleep, mumbling incoherently as he curled closer into Zechs arms.

‘He felt me?’ Treize blinked in shock. 

“I don’t think so, not the way he would feel me.” Zechs looked just as startled as Treize had. “Though now that I think of it, he’s flinched when Solo touches him too.”

‘Maybe he feels the emotions…’ Treize mused, as Solo suddenly appeared next to Duo, crouched in the center of the mattress. ‘Like he can pick up on memories in objects.’

“But there’s nothing solid to anchor them too.” Zechs shook his head.

‘Amputees’ have been claiming for years to feel limbs that are no longer there. And after that one study using Kirlian photography… there is obviously something still there.’

“So what does that make you two, full body amputees?” Zechs sighed, and pulled Duo closer as the younger man started to squirm. 

‘Maybe.’ Treize looked thoughtful, but he was interrupted before he could delve deeper into that theory as the door opened, and Dorothy stepped into the room. 

“Zechs? Oh, shit. Is he okay?”

“Sleeping,” Zechs sighed. “He was starting to get pretty strung out again from lack of it.”

“I know how he feels,” she growled, looking almost as weary as Duo had. “I do not know how he dealt with constant nightmares all this time.”

‘Not well, obviously, or he wouldn’t have started hanging out with you’all,’ Solo muttered, sitting back on his heels. ‘Not that that’s been a bad thing,’ He added hastily when Zechs glared at him.

“What’s up?” Zechs asked Dorothy as she came to sit down on the mattress near Duo’s head. 

“Epyon got a lead on the Sabrello MO’s, and I thought we could check it out before we headed for the meeting with Howard.” She shrugged. “But if Duo’s asleep, we can wait until tomorrow.”

Treize sighed, and saw Solo roll his eyes. _They never even considered the fact that Duo sleeping might not take precedence over the possible break in a case. Head over heels, and completely oblivious. It would be almost sad, if they weren’t all so damned cute._

***

Zechs pulled the car over to the curb, as Dorothy verified the address Howard had given them. 

“This is it.” She glanced nervously at him. “Wish Duo’d been able to come with us.”

“I just hope the few hours of sleep he managed to get does him some good tonight. He still didn’t look so good when he left.”

“Neither did Lowell when we saw him earlier,” she sighed and got out of the car. “Shall we?”

“Yeah.” He walked over to knock on the warehouse door. After a moment, and the sound of several locks clicking open, Melvin opened the door. 

“Come on in…” He glanced nervously behind them. “You weren’t followed, were you?”

“Should we have been?” Zechs raised one eyebrow questioningly. “You act like we’re doing something illegal.”

“Melvin has watched a few too many spy movies with Duo,” Howard snorted as they moved deeper into the warehouse. “Come on back.” They followed his voice towards the far end of the warehouse, behind several racks holding skids of plastic rollstock. On the far side was a small office. Howard was just sitting down on the far side of the desk, next to another man with a beaky nose and wildly bushy hair. It took Zechs a moment to recognize the man sitting with Howard.

“Professor G?” He hesitated in the doorway, and felt Dorothy stiffen at his side warily. “I’d heard you were dead.”

“Rumors of my death have been greatly exaggerated.” The old professor rolled his eyes at Howard. “You were right. Duo has gotten to them too.” 

Howard laughed. “Not as badly as you might have expected. He hasn’t actually gotten around to sharing most of his vid collection with them yet.”

“Thank the gods for something.” The old man shook his head. “Call me Gordon. I’d be just as happy never to hear the name Professor G again.”

“I suppose this actually explains some of Melvin’s paranoia,” Zechs sighed, and moved farther into the room. “And why Howard didn’t want to attract Lady Une’s attention either.”

“Let’s just say I’d like to stay out of the limelight for a bit,” Gordon shrugged. “Duo didn’t come with you?” The professor sounded disappointed.

“No, he’s out in the field right now.”

“Alone?” Melvin huffed as he closed the door to the small office. Zechs sighed as he and Dorothy took seats in the last two chairs around the desk. “I thought you were his partners.”

“He’s got backup.” Dorothy shrugged. “Zechs and I stood out a little too much for this assignment.”

“Ah,” Gordon sighed. “Well, give him my best, will you?”

“Of course,” Zechs nodded. “So… now that the introductions are out of the way?”

“Yes, yes.” Gordon said impatiently. “Did you bring it with you?”

“Epyon?” Dorothy scowled. “Of course.” Zechs saw the wary look in her eyes and sighed. She frowned at him, before relenting and pulling the laptop out of its carrying case.

“That’s it?” Gordon looked almost disappointed. “That’s Epyon?”

“Yes,” Dorothy scowled and hugged the laptop to her almost protectively.

“See why I wasn’t as concerned about size?” Howard grinned, and clapped his old friend on the shoulder. “What we came up with should fit it just fine. You’ve got to stop thinking in terms of Gundams.”

“Yeah, yeah, fine. Laugh it up.” Gordon frowned at Howard, then turned back to Dorothy. “It really can’t talk to anyone besides you?”

“Not that we’ve found— though it might be able to talk to Yuy.” 

“No one can talk to Yuy, except maybe that Barton kid.” Gordon rolled his eyes. “Jay really shouldn’t have ever been allowed to raise a child.”

Howard just snorted, as if this was a very old argument, and started covering the desk with equipment from a case near his feet. First was a slightly smaller laptop than what Epyon currently resided in, and though it looked lightweight, there was the faint blue-black sheen of gundanium to the case. A number of scanners, connecting cords and what appeared to be a large jewelry box followed this. Dorothy and Zechs just watched in bemusement as the three engineers began setting up the equipment.

“Okay, this will be Epyon’s new home, more or less permanent.” Howard flipped up the monitor of the laptop and turned it on. “We’ve already installed all of the hardware and circuitry from the diagrams that Treize provided. The case is gundanium, shockproof, and for all intents and purposes, bulletproof. It has a solar cell along with a 36-hour backup battery and just for kicks… a standard powercord as well. We also brought extra power cells.” 

“Wow,” Dorothy turned the case towards her. “It’s light.”

“The entire thing weighs about three pounds. Five with the carry case we designed. Which is scannerproof, bulletproof as well, and also contains a solar recharger for the spare cells within.”

“Thorough.” Zechs nodded appreciatively.

“My boy, we’ve just begun.” Howard shook his head with a grin, and cracked his knuckles. “This was the easy part. The hard part was this little item right here.” 

Dorothy’s eyes widened as the velvet jewelry case was pushed towards her. “And that is?”

“Open it.” Gordon bounced slightly in his chair. “This was my baby, and the reason behind all those scans Melvin took of your arm.”

She opened the case slowly, and blinked. Inside the box was a bracelet, with the same blue black sheen as the laptop. It was perhaps three inches wide, and formed from interlocking disks of metal fitted with paua shell.

“You made me a bracelet?” She raised a dubious eyebrow at Gordon.

“This is not merely a bracelet. It holds four nanochips, which form a base for Epyon when he is in the interface. It should also work as a miniature antenna to increase his range when not in the laptop itself. Plus…” the old man lifted the bracelet out of the case. There was a small click, and he pulled out a length of wire from one of the discs. “It will plug into any standard computer dataport.”

“I…” she blinked at the three engineers. “This is far more than we expected.”

Howard patted her hand. “It’s also completely theoretical until we know it works. So if Epyon would like to try it out?” 

“Right.” Zechs squeezed her shoulder. “What’s he think?”

“I think he’s in shock too,” she mumbled, then put her hand on the new laptop case. A moment later, the screen began to fill with numbers and letters, strobing through the entire color spectrum as well. It took Dorothy a moment to realize that she was holding her breath. 

**Dorothy**

“Epyon?”

**Home/body again. Not hurt**

“Not hurt? You were in pain?”

**Missing… part. Still missing… but more… whole now.**

“Well?” Howard asked impatiently. “What’s it saying?”

“I think Epyon likes it.” She hesitated. “It says it is more whole now than it was.”

“Good. We had to make some guesses as to what parts of the coding might have been lost that crippled it in the first place. As well as taking out most of the piloting coding. It will remember the basics as far as walking you through an emergency—though I doubt you will ever need to worry about it partnered with these two—but since the suit itself is gone, a lot of that coding was superfluous now.”

“I had wondered if you were simply going to recreate Treize’s original program or not.” Zechs leaned back and watched Dorothy curiously.

“Didn’t want to risk ending up with two Epyon’s, especially not in the custom made home we were building for this one here. That could get ugly,” Gordon muttered. “One has done quite enough damage.”

“That and if we had included most of the original coding, it would take considerably more memory than we could fit in there. And rebuilding Epyon just to house its computerized brain would be a little conspicuous.”

“Not to mention illegal,” Dorothy said dryly.

“Well, yeah. That too.” Melvin grinned.

“Anyway,” Gordon cleared his throat. “We thought part of his fuzziness might be due to having to travel back and forth through the interface in Dorothy.”

“What? Why?” She blinked at them worriedly. “Is something wrong with the implant?”

“No, no, nothing like that. But Epyon is taking up precious memory space and energy holding together—so to speak. If we have Epyon more or less grounded into one location, with connections that he can use to link to other networks, then he doesn’t need to download completely each time he moves from one computer to another. The implant wasn’t meant to carry the kind of load you’ve been putting on it. It was meant to facilitate communication with a computer-based form, and provide a bridge between the human mind, and the suit mind. We are thinking that in addition to having lost possibly crucial bits of code when Libra and Suit Epyon were destroyed, feedback interference from carrying all of its baggage around may be disrupting its focus. Or whatever it’s picking up that is causing it to have nightmares.”

Seeing the blank looks on their faces, the old man sighed. “We streamlined the process and fine-tuned the focus, alright?”

“Right.”

“So go on, try the armband,” Gordon urged. “It’s got a copy of the base program already loaded. And there are microchips in the case that will allow you to download Epyon’s basefile onto any computer you think he’ll be accessing regularly.”

“Christ, you guys really did think of everything, didn’t you?”

“No,” Howard snorted. “We still can’t think of a single reason why you want Epyon’s focus to get stronger.”

Zechs just rolled his eyes.


	10. Three Monkeys

Duo slumped back against the wall, eyeing the streets around him in discouragement. He and Lowell had been on the streets for over a week now, and neither had found out anything useful except that it was pretty damned obvious that the local people were freaked out about something. No one was talking. No one would get close to anyone else at all; as if they knew that there was a killer hiding somewhere among them. He’d barely gotten enough money panhandling to buy a cup of coffee, and it was more than a suspicion that none of that came from a local resident.

Peeling himself off the wall with a sigh, he headed back to the bridge that had become his second home. He was a little surprised when he got there to find that one of the displaced derelicts was back. On a sudden impulse he moved closer slowly, trying to look unthreatening.

“Hey man,” he nodded at the older man, relieved that it was one of the ones who didn’t speak only Russian. “Cold tonight, yeah?”

The old man threw him a wary look, but didn’t immediately back away. 

“You have anything to drink?” he asked hopefully. “People were damn stingy tonight.”

“No.” The old man shrugged, tugging his ragged overcoat closer. “Lot of slow nights lately.”

“Yeah,” Duo sighed, kicking at one of the bridge supports. “Fuck, I shoulda stayed back on L2. Pickings were still slim, but better’n this.”

“How’d you come here?” The old wino threw him another suspicious look. 

“Stowed away on a freighter.” Duo shrugged and huddled down against the pillar out of the wind. “Didn’t have a choice of destinations though. The one headin’ here was the only one I could sneak on.” He sighed. “I thought everyone on earth would be rich, y’know? Guess I am just a stupid kid after all— just like everyone always told me.”

“Just unlucky.” The old man sighed. “This place has gotten unlucky lately. For all of us.”

“Oh?” Duo tried to stifle the hope that he might be about to finally get information. “I was wonderin’ what was up— why everyone here was so tight.”

“Things are bad here now.” The old man looked uncomfortable again. “You been asking questions. That’s bad.” 

“Huh?” Duo blinked. “Just askin’ for money, man.”

“No.” The man frowned suddenly. “You shouldn’t ask questions. They don’t like that. You don’ wanna see too much here. Don’t listen, hear?”

“Why?”

“Don’t hear _nothin’_ , kid. Just remember that.” The old man started to shuffle away.

“Hey!” Duo started after the old man. “Wait. Who doesn’t like me asking questions?”

“Nobody!” The old man cowered away, looking worriedly over his shoulder. “No one… you shouldn’t ask questions though. Hearing things breaks the rules. Can’t break the three rules now.”

“Whose rules?”

“No. No!” The man scurried back. 

“Hey mister, wait.” Duo edged carefully after him. “I got a little food. You want some? You help me out— tellin’ me about the rules, an’ I’ll share a little.”

“No!” The old man looked truly terrified then. “I didn’t help you. I didn’t. I’m not a Samaritan— I’m not. Don’t send the monkeys after me.”

_Huh?_ Duo stared at the man as he scuttled into the shadows. “Okay… _that_ was weird.”

“What was weird?” Lowell asked behind him. Duo jumped guiltily and whirled around. 

“Dammit, don’t sneak up on me like that.” He leaned back against one of the cement bridge supports and ran a grimy hand through his long bangs. “I thought I was finally getting some information out of one of the derelicts… but then he started raving.”

Lowell sighed, leaning against the wall where he was still mostly in the shadows. “I’m beginning to think we’re just chasing our tails here.”

“Yeah,” Duo sighed. “Eight bodies have turned up, but no one saw a thing, no one heard a thing and even if they know anything, no one is saying a goddamn thing.”

“So what was your friend raving about?”

“He said he’d seen me asking questions. Somebody apparently has rules against that kind of thing. I told him that if he helped me out by explaining the rules, I’d give him food. Apparently that was the wrong thing to say… he freaked and accused me of setting monkeys on him.”

Lowell froze, and turned to stare at Duo in shock. “What did you just say?”

“He was raving, Lowell,” Duo blinked at his partner uncertainly. “What? Does that mean something?”

“I don’t know. There’s something—What were you saying about the people here earlier?”

“No one’s seen anything, no one’s heard anything…”

“And no one is saying anything,” Lowell groaned. “It’s the three monkeys. But hell if I know what it means.”

“Uh, you’ve lost me here. What three monkeys?”

“See no evil, hear no evil and speak no evil.” Lowell straightened. “It’s a very old but very popular type of statue. Three monkeys sitting on a log or something, each one with their hands over either eyes, ears or mouth.”

“Huh. Weird. Though it sounds kinda familiar, now that you mention it.”

“No doubt. I saw the image in some of the graffiti earlier, but didn’t think anything about it.”

“Those were supposed to be monkeys?” Duo shook his head.

“I think so. The artist on the North side is much better.”

“So you think we’re dealing with someone with a fetish for either monkeys or old statues?” Duo asked, only half joking in an attempt to lighten the suddenly grim mood.

“Maybe…” Lowell frowned. “It does seem rather unlikely though.”

“Ugh…” 

“What?”

“I just thought of something unpleasant. According to the autopsy reports, the bodies had random mutilations.”

“Yeah, they couldn’t find a consistent pattern.” Lowell glanced over at him. “What are you thinking?”

“I think we need to get back to HQ and go back over the reports.” 

* * *

Dorothy stepped into Purgatory, staring at the scene before her in amusement. Lowell was poring over a stack of autopsy reports, while Duo was standing on the couch and peering at a scribbled list as he stuck pins into the wall map.

“You guys are back kind of late.” She closed the door and tossed the pizza box on the conference table. “What’s up?”

“Hey Doro. Good. I need you to work your magic and do a database search on any murders where the victims were mutilated,” Duo muttered over his shoulder, obviously deep in though. 

“Any particular mutilations?” She asked, slipping into her usual seat and pulling Epyon’s new case out of his carry bag. 

“Eyes, ears and mouth?” Duo glanced over at Lowell, who merely nodded distractedly.

“Area?” She asked quietly. “And the pizza is for you guys.”

“How’d you know we would be here?” Lowell looked up from his report for the first time.

“Zechs ordered it.” She shrugged. “I guess he figured if you guys weren’t taking the time to shower first, you weren’t taking the time to eat either.”

Duo blinked, glancing down at his grimy street clothes. “Oops. Forgot about that. Sorry Doro…”

She just shrugged, not wanting to say too much in front of Lowell. “Not a problem. Area?”

“All of Sanck. And go back about a year?” Lowell mused softly. 

“Doro, you ever see a statue of three monkeys?” Duo asked as he finished marking the last location where a body had been found. 

“The See-no-Evil ones?” She asked absently, typing random comments to Epyon so that Lowell wouldn’t notice her odd method of communing with her computer. 

“Yeah,” Duo sighed, moving over to the table and snagging the pizza box. “Ooh. Pepperoni. Thank you guys.”

“My grandmother had one. It was terribly ugly.” She shook her head, then stopped and visibly rewound the previous conversation in her head. “Eyes, ears and mouth? Oh, now that’s just twisted.” 

“It’s still just a theory.” Lowell shrugged a little defensively, and took the box of pizza as Duo held it out. “But it fits with some rumors Duo got out of one of the homeless.”

“Not to mention that the random mutilation of the victims is looking a hell of a lot less random by the second,” Duo muttered around a bite of pepperoni pizza.

“I’m not doubting your theory.” She shook her head. “What have you got so far, so I can cross reference them?”

Duo looked down at his list with a grimace. “Two of the victims were blinded, one apparently with something sharp and the other with some kind of acid. Another simply had duct tape wrapped around his head— with his eyes open. Two of them had their eardrums pierced, and a third had his ears cut off. The last two— one of them had his tongue cut out, and the other had his mouth sewn shut.”

“Yuck,” Dorothy sighed. “So we’re guessing the next one will also have his voice removed somehow. Lovely.” She frowned down at Epyon as he started searching the entire Preventers’ database and the Sanck National Police database. 

“That’s the pattern so far,” Lowell nodded grimly. “Dammit. I still can’t see any connection between the victims though. Nothing that they had in common, except being in Little Russia.”

“Maybe that is the entire connection?” Dorothy mused. 

“But why the three monkeys?” Lowell pressed. “I’ve never heard of that being a specifically Russian legend.”

“Mmm.” She frowned at Epyon. _Any ideas?_

**Not Russian,** Epyon answered after a long moment. **Possible origins…** Downloaded articles flashed onto the screen almost too quickly for her to read. 

“It’s not Russian,” she informed the guys as she finished skimming the articles. “Most common origin is thought to be Japanese, followed by Chinese and Portuguese. It’s also linked to a few churches in Europe.” 

“Damn. That narrows it down,” Duo muttered, picking up another slice of pizza absently. “But I still can’t think of a connection between any of those and Little Russia.” 

“Well, Japan is fairly close to the eastern border of Russia.” 

“Yeah, but Sanck isn’t close to either.” 

Dorothy frowned thoughtfully, then glanced at Epyon as he beeped. A list of open cases scrolled slowly across the screen. “Hey, I think we have something here.” 

“Yeah?” Duo grabbed up a legal pad from the table. 

“Four murders in the last year, all unsolved… two in Neo-Amsterdam, one in Upper Chinatown… and one in Little Tokyo. Bodies were found in alleys, no blood, all mutilated either by blinding or by having the tongue cut out.” 

“Nothing to remove hearing?” Duo blinked at her. “That’s odd.” 

“I didn’t say that. Three bodies were simply found in the harbor. Again, no blood. One with the eyes removed, one with the ears removed, and one with the ears filled with cement.” 

“That’s been in the last year? How come no one linked the cases together?” 

“No one ever searched by mutilation before?” She asked. “I’m guessing that since none of the mutilations were the cause of death, they were just seen as random torture.” 

“You know, that is not the most reassuring conversation to walk in on,” Zechs muttered as he closed the door. 

“Hey Zechs,” Duo grinned up at him. “Thanks for the pizza.” 

“You’re welcome.” The blond moved over behind Dorothy to peer at Epyon’s screen. “What brought on this rather odd line of research?” 

“The guys found a possible link between the murders in the harbor area and the three monkeys.” She glanced up at him with a sigh. “It’s looking like a lot more than just eight bodies now.” 

“Three monkeys?” Zechs shook his head. “You’ve lost me.” 

“Glad I’m not the only one,” Duo muttered. 

“See-no-evil, hear-no-evil and speak-no-evil,” Lowell answered, looking almost embarrassed. “It’s thin… but all the bodies have been mutilated in one way or another to match the statue of the three monkeys. And one of Duo’s sources muttered something about Duo setting monkeys on him for breaking the rules.” 

Zechs raised one eyebrow. “How many bodies are we talking now?” 

“In the last year, possibly fifteen.” She glanced back. “I’m going back at least another year now.” 

“Can you print out the autopsy reports on the other bodies?” Lowell asked wearily. “Maybe we’ll find something that will tie the victims together.” 

“Already done.” She pointed at the printer on the file cabinet behind him. “Though now that the locations are spread all over…” 

“But still around the harbor area,” Duo muttered. “That has to mean something.” 

“Maybe.” She turned back to Epyon. “Come on, talk to me.” 

*** 

“We’re going in circles here,” Zechs finally muttered, leaning back and stretching. “The victims have absolutely nothing in common except that they’re all male.” He scowled down at the scribbled lists in front of him. “Ages range from 18 to 65, backgrounds range from homeless to dock-worker to midlevel business man. Nationality is now ranging from Middle-Eastern, Chinese, Russian, Norwegian and Dutch to Sanckian.” 

“And while the majority of them have been found in Little Russia lately, none of the earlier murders show any pattern to location except the harbor area.” Duo shook his head. “There has to be some pattern here we’re missing.” 

“Is there any area that borders the harbor that hasn’t been hit?” 

“Not if you go by where some of the victims lived. At least two were found fairly far from where they normally live and work. And at least one body has been found in each territory around the harbor.” Duo glanced up at the map thoughtfully. “I wonder why Little Russia has been hit so hard though.” 

“Maybe the killer just likes the area. It’s apparently damn easy to hide what’s happening there.” 

“Yeah.” Dorothy frowned. “How annoying convenient for our killer.” 

“There has to be something that all the victims have in common,” Duo muttered. “We just have to find the pattern.” 

“Well, we’re not going to find it tonight.” Zechs glanced over at Lowell, who was mostly asleep at the table. “We need to get some sleep, start fresh in the morning. Doro and I will requisition the full files on the new victims from the Sanck Police, and start doing the legwork talking to the victims’ families. Maybe then we’ll find out the common link.” 

“What about us?” Lowell asked, raising his head as he pushed back from the conference table. 

“You and Duo see if you can find out anything more about these monkeys,” Zechs sighed. “Maybe it’s just been a case of not knowing what questions to ask.” 

“Alright,” Lowell nodded. “Maxwell… you need a ride back?” 

“Nah. I’ll just crash here, and head back tomorrow. I want to do a little more digging in the files. I’ll meet you in the usual place tomorrow night when you get off shift.” 

“Right.” 

There was silence for a few minutes after Lowell left, as the members of Purgatory began to relax. Zechs couldn’t help smiling as Solo flopped down in the middle of the conference table with a disgusted snort. Treize just shook his head and perched on the file cabinet. 

“Alone at last.” Duo stretched his arms back over his head, and for a moment Zechs forgot himself as he watched the younger man lean back in his chair. “So, any comments from the peanut gallery?” 

“No,” Zechs muttered a little too quickly. Duo and Dorothy both threw him an odd look, but didn’t press the question. Ignoring the amused looks the two ghosts were throwing at him, Zechs stood up. “I’m heading to bed.” 

“Be there in a bit, guys. I really want to grab a shower first.” 

“Don’t take too long,” Dorothy sighed. “We never seem to manage more than a few hours of sleep before Epyon starts having nightmares.” 

“Yeah, well.” Duo grinned. “I’m too tired for anything but a quick shower tonight. And the Preventers locker room isn’t really conducive for long, hedonistic, steamy showers anyway.” 

Zechs could swear that Dorothy blushed at that, even as he fought down the mental image their youngest partner’s offhand remark had generated. 

“That’s good to know,” Dorothy managed after a minute. “I’ll just— ah— get ready for bed myself.” 

Zechs watched both of them leave, only to turn back as Treize chuckled. _‘What now?’_

‘I just thought you might like to know that apparently your bathroom _is_ conducive to long, hedonistic, steamy showers.’ 

_‘Have I mentioned lately that death has apparently not helped your sense of humor any?’_

‘Frequently.’ Treize shrugged nonchalantly. ‘But you love me anyway, right?’ 

Zechs rolled his eyes and finished gathering up the remains of the pizza. 


	11. Superheroes

“Captain Yuy?”

Heero sighed, and put down the wrench. “Yes Lieutenant?”

“Sir, communication from Captain Winner.”

Heero frowned slightly, and began slithering back out of the access hatch beneath the main computer console. When he had emerged far enough to sit up, he took the radio his subordinate was holding out.

“Yuy.”

/“Heero, how are you?” /

“Fine, Quatre. What did you need?” He couldn’t help rolling his eyes at the former Sandrock pilot’s instinctive need for polite small talk. Sometimes he was almost worse than Duo.

/“Right.”/ Quatre’s voice was rueful. /“Wufei and I got called back to Earth. The dedication ceremony for L6 is in a week and Une wants to go over the security arrangements again. Most of it is in place already, but with the continuing threats against several of the UESN Senators…”/

“I understand. How far did you get?”

/“We’ve double checked the remaining four main colonies in the L4 cluster. The half of the Maganac Corps not setting up security on L6, are working their way through the resource satellites.”/

“We’re on the last two colonies of L3,” Heero noted. “Trowa’s team reported a recent failure to the environmental controls at X-18896, but there hadn’t been time for the population to be affected.”

/“That’s good. I feel bad leaving you guys with the job of checking the other two clusters. But L4 has so many Satellites that the Maganac Corps won’t be able to join up with you for at least a week.”/

“We’ll manage. Trowa and I may have to split up to cover the last two clusters though. See if Une can spare a few more men to help with the L2 cluster. That’s going to be the difficult one, since most of those repairs will have to be done in full environmental suits.”

/“Be careful.”/ Quatre’s voice changed slightly, and Heero could hear the apprehension in his voice. /“I’ve been getting a… well… a bad feeling lately.”/

“About anything specific?” Heero couldn’t claim to understand the empathic abilities of the other pilot, but he had been forced during the war to accept that they existed—and were very seldom wrong.

/“Not really. Just mostly bad dreams, but I don’t remember them when I wake up,”/ Quatre muttered. /“But the feelings are stronger when I think about L6.”/

“L6?” Heero frowned. “But it’s just being built to replace the old L5 cluster. The only people there are the workers and engineers.”

/“I know. The parts are too new to be failing like at the older colonies, and there aren’t enough people there to riot anyway. I don’t think it’s connected to this. But at the same time, I can’t be sure.”/

“Don’t let Une badger you about budget and manpower. Do whatever you need to secure that colony for the ceremony,” Heero growled. “Trowa and I will try to finish with this and meet you there before the senators arrive.” 

/“Thanks Heero. Tell Trowa— tell him I’m sorry. I know he was looking forward to going back to Earth for Christmas.”/

“I will. Take care, Winner.”

*******  
Duo shivered as he ducked into the shelter of the alley. It had started to rain again, the icy drizzle driving most of the Lost off the streets into what shelter could be found in alleys and hideaways. There were fewer abandoned buildings in Little Russia than there had been on L2, and many of the Lost simply huddled together under overturned dumpsters and boxes. 

Crouching in a doorway out of the rain, he pulled the blankets Lowell had given him out of his backpack and curled up to wait out the storm. He’d given up trying to join any of the small groups of homeless; no one trusted anyone that they hadn’t known for years. 

Sighing, he leaned back against the doorway and idly studied the graffiti covering the wall across the alley. It was the usual jumble of gang signs, initials and artwork. He let his eyes skim over it, until one of the images caught his attention. Feeling a cold chill wash down his spine, he straightened a little and stared at the small image of three monkeys sitting on a chain link fence. It was the fourth graffiti image he’d seen since hitting the streets again. Now that they knew what to look for, the signs were starting to pop up everywhere.

_This just gets weirder and weirder._ He ran a hand through damp bangs. _I hope Zechs and Doro can find out something about the other victims. I’m starting to get a really bad feeling about this…_

*******  
Dropping his gear wearily next to the bed, Heero sank down onto the soft surface and stared at the vidphone. He had been dreading having to make this call since Quatre’s call earlier that afternoon, and not just because it would mean a longer separation from his lover. _Waiting isn’t going to make it any easier._ He finally reached over and keyed the number for Trowa’s hotel room on X-18896.

/”Barton.”/

“Trowa…” Heero said quietly. A moment later, the visuals on the phone were switched on. 

/”Heero.”/ Trowa smiled at him, then sobered when he saw the grim look on Heero’s face. /”What’s up?”/

“Winner and Chang got called back to Earth to finish preparations for the L6 dedication ceremony. Une is still worried by the threats to the senators that will be attending.” Heero could see the moment Trowa understood what that meant as his partner’s face grew still.

/”Do you want me to take L1 or L2?”/ Trowa asked with a sigh, but somehow that only increased Heero’s feelings of guilt. _I know I promised you we were going home soon._

“I was thinking I’d better take L1. I know for a fact that J had labs down there, and they may still be booby-trapped.” He hesitated. “But I asked Une for more men to cover L2. It’s going to be much more difficult there.”

/”Working in full environmental suits, yes.”/ Trowa ran one hand through his bangs distractedly. 

“Will you be okay?” Heero hadn’t wanted to ask, but couldn’t quite stop the question. He hated that it was even necessary to ask, but while Trowa might have forgiven Quatre for leaving him to drift in space and die, none of them would ever be able to forget it. It occurred to Heero for the first time, that he owed Duo a great debt for finding Trowa and bringing him back to himself.

Trowa shrugged. /”We’ll be working inside the colony. And I won’t be alone. I’ll be alright.”/ 

“Take care.” Heero reached out to touch the screen, wishing he could feel the warmth of Trowa’s skin under his fingertips. “I promise we’ll go back to Earth when this is over.”

/”Yeah.”/ Trowa managed a half-smile and a shrug. /”I’m going to hold you to that, Heero.”/

“Trowa…”

/”I know.”/ That time Trowa managed a bit more of a smile. /”Take care of yourself Heero. Good night.”/

*******

“Find anything?” Duo asked as he threw himself onto the couch. Dorothy threw him an amused look, pushing a box of donuts towards them as Lowell slumped into one of the chairs at the table. 

“Nothing that makes any sense,” Zechs growled as he emerged from the back room. “We have spent the last day or so interviewing the families of the other victims, and still have no idea what all the victims had in common.”

“Maybe there isn’t anything?” Duo frowned, sitting up and catching the donut that Dorothy threw at him. “Maybe they were all just in the wrong place at the wrong time?”

“Yeah, but they weren’t all in the same place. So why were they picked and not someone else?” Lowell sighed. 

“Did you guys find out anything?” 

“Only that at least five different graffiti artists have started doing murals of those damned monkeys.” Duo rubbed his eyes. “Two of them are really rather talented.”

“You’re sure it wasn’t just one artist?”

“Yeah. Graffiti artists tend to develop their own signature style. It’s considered bad form to use another’s style.” 

“There has to be some connection between the victims, something that all of them had in common.” Lowell took a bite of his own donut. “We just have to figure out what it is.”

“What do you think we’re trying to do?” Dorothy snapped. “Shit. Sorry, Lowell.”

He waved her apology off. “I’m not criticizing, just frustrated.”

“You and Duo have already figured out the first part of this.” Zechs moved to stare out the room’s single window. “The answer is out there, just waiting for us.”

“And you still haven’t managed to locate any witnesses?” Duo asked cautiously. Zechs went still. 

“Not a single one,” Zechs said grimly. “Which is suspicious in and of itself. We should have been able to find at least one person who could give us some info.”

“Hmm.” Duo frowned. “That’s weird. Maybe we should put more people out on the street looking.” _Solo and Treize have never had trouble finding the murder victims before. Hell, even when we couldn’t find the body, we’ve found the ghost._

“We’ve got everyone that can be spared out there looking.” Zechs glanced over and shook his head slightly at Duo. 

Lowell looked puzzled by the exchange, especially when Dorothy abruptly changed the subject. “What did you guys find, other than artwork?”

“Not much,” Lowell shrugged. “Everyone I spoke to clams up immediately at the first mention of monkeys.”

“Same here.”

Zechs turned back to the window and leaned his forehead against the glass. “We’re going about this all wrong. I just don’t know what else we should be trying.”

“So tell us about the rest of the victims,” Duo said, getting up to put a hand on the older man’s shoulder. “Maybe we just need a fresh set of eyes.” Everyone in the room suddenly winced. “Ugh. Bad choice of words, there.”

“Maybe.” Lowell frowned. “Did the victims all have something in common like eye color?”

“No. We already double checked that angle,” Dorothy shook her head. “About the only thing they all had in common was a lack of anything distinctive that they all had in common.”

“Okay,” Duo rolled his eyes at the frustration in her voice. “So somehow we’re looking for the wrong thing. If it’s not a physical trait—” He glanced up at the map with the fifteen pins. “No common nationality, social standing or language. What about hobbies?”

“Nothing common to all fifteen. At least four of them volunteered in their various churches, two were members of animal rights groups, one sang in the community choir and one liked woodworking in his basement. I seriously doubt that the three homeless people killed in Little Russia had much in the way of hobbies.”

Duo leaned back on the couch, closing his eyes. There was something they were missing; he could almost touch it. _What the fuck is the connection? I know it’s there._

“So maybe they were all just in the wrong place at the wrong time,” Lowell muttered. “Maybe we’re making this too difficult. They all had to have done something that made them a target.”

_Done something… that… something about that…_

“Seen something, heard something or said something maybe?” Dorothy growled. “That would be obvious, but we have no way of knowing what it was. And since it obviously didn’t happen in the same place each time…”

_Done something._ Duo suddenly froze, knowing the answer was close. _The wino under the bridge was afraid of having done something… having helped me. He said he wasn’t a Samaritan. Why does that suddenly sound so familiar?_

“Duo?” Zechs spoke softly from nearby, and Duo could almost feel the older man crouching next to the couch. “What are you thinking?”

“Samaritan… the old man… he was frightened of being called a Samaritan.”

“Samaritan?” Dorothy asked, sounding bewildered. “What?”

“Father Maxwell— He gave a sermon once about someone called the _Good Samaritan._ Helped out someone in trouble—or something. I don’t remember.” Duo groaned. “Dammit. I should have paid more attention when I was a kid. He helped someone out, and no one else would…”

“Isn’t that mixing our parables now?” Lowell shook his head. “Going from the three monkeys to the Good Samaritan?”

“Yeah, maybe,” Duo sighed heavily. “It’s probably stupid.”

“Maybe not.” Zechs leaned against the couch. “Maybe not a stretch at all. I remember that story now. The man was robbed and left on the side of the road. Because he was a tax collector, everyone pretended not to see him or hear him. They even crossed to the other side of the road to avoid him. Except this one man, the Samaritan. He wasn’t anyone special, but he stopped to help the man and took care of him. Saved his life.”

“So, you think that somehow all of these people did something that would make them appear to be good Samaritans?” 

“I don’t know. That feels right. But,” Duo opened his eyes to look helplessly at his partner. “Ignoring the rules, the three monkeys, that has to be what the victims had in common.”

“Did any of them have police records?” Zechs glanced sharply at Dorothy. “I don’t remember any of them having any kind of record…”

“Only two.” She stiffened. “In fact, most of them were described as being good citizens. You know, the type to help someone in trouble out. Even the two who had a habit of getting mixed up in bar brawls tended not to be the people starting the brawl.”

“So we _have_ been going about this all wrong,” Lowell suddenly laughed bitterly. “Shit.”

“What?” Duo sat up enough to look at the man over Zechs’ shoulder. “What are you talking about?”

“We’ve been trying to blend in… become part of the crowd.” Lowell grinned. “We’ve been looking for the killer.”

“Bloody Hell,” Duo groaned. “Of course. We just need to make him look for us.”

“What are you talking about?” Dorothy said warily.

“Playing Superhero,” Lowell shrugged. “If we start rescuing those in distress, sooner or later, we’ll draw out the killer.” 

“I refuse to wear tights and go by the name Robin, but count me in.” Duo grinned back at the man. “Ready to fight crime whenever you are.”


	12. Bad Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And then all hell broke loose...

“Une?” Sally stared worriedly at the other woman, taking in the haggard appearance and dark circles under her eyes. Lady Une jumped, looking up from the paperwork she’d been staring blindly at for several minutes. 

“Sally? What are you doing here?”

“Apparently talking to myself, since I don’t think you’ve been listening to me for the last few minutes.” 

“Sorry,” the dark-haired woman grimaced, rubbing at her eyes wearily. “What were you saying?”

“I was asking if this look was a new trend that I missed. And since when have you been one to follow the fashion trends set by our homicide department?”

Lady Une flushed. “It’s not. And I’m not. I just, haven’t slept well the last few nights.”

“Mhmm.” Sally frowned. “That’s what they normally say too. And we took Maxwell out of the field for that if you recall.”

“I’m not that bad.” Une scowled at her. “And I’m not exactly a field agent, remember? Besides—it’s only been a few nights. Maxwell went weeks without sleeping. You said yourself that he was suffering from acute sleep deprivation.”

“Yes, and Dorothy is fast approaching that line,” Sally sighed. “I would think that Maxwell just handed off his bad dreams to her, but he’s not looking much better. And even Zechs is beginning to look frazzled.”

Une tried to wrap her mind around the image of Zechs looking frazzled and failed. 

“How’s Lowell looking?”  
Sally rolled her eyes. “He’s working with the homicide division. Of course he looks tired. Anyone would that tries to match their hours.” She threw a pointed look at Une.

“Point taken.” Une shook her head. “And I promise, I’ll try to sleep.”

“So what are these nightmares about, anyway?”

“That’s the weird thing,” Une mused with a shrug. “I can’t remember them once I wake up.”

“Do you want me to give you something to help you sleep?”

Lady Une shivered at the thought of not being able to wake from the nightmares. “Not yet. I promise I’ll ask for help if they keep up much longer.”

“I’ll hold you to that.” Sally stood up. “And speaking as your doctor, not just your friend, you need to sleep. You don’t want to end up resembling Maxwell. We need you too much for that.”

“We need him too much for that too,” Une growled. “And I promised, didn’t I? I’ll take care of myself.”

Sally just smiled. “Good.”

***  
 ** _Ice frosted the walls of the narrow corridor, forming kaleidoscopes in the light from the hand lamps. At the end of the corridor, the walls bowed inwards as if a giant hand had squeezed them._**

**_“Fucking lights are out completely. Need to just evacuate this hellhole and be done with it.”_ **

**_“And where are they gonna put the people who live here, huh?”_ **

**_The corridor suddenly receded backwards, until the crushed hallway was out of sight. The lights went out… it was dark. Very dark. Until a body floated into view. Empty, hemorrhaged eyes stared blindly at nothing… a mouth opened in a silent scream… And then the darkness was filled with bodies… all floating… all screaming…_ **

“It’s okay…it’s okay now.”

Dorothy forced her eyes open as Zechs pulled her into his lap and tucked her head under his chin. The room was dark, as usual; she fought the urge to start screaming again. Fighting her way free of his arms, she scrambled across the mattress and towards the light switch. _No more darkness—_

“Doro?” Zechs caught up to her at the wall, his hand closing over hers and flicking on the rarely used lightswitch. “Dorothy, come on. Wake up!”

“I’m awake,” she moaned as strong arms wrapped around her waist and dragged her bodily over to the nearest couch. “I may never sleep again, but I’m awake now.”

“What did you see?” he asked. 

“It was the hallway again. There were people talking about the lights being out. They were using lamps, and there was ice everywhere. Someone said they should evacuate everyone, and… and someone else asked— where would they put all the people?” She swallowed hard.

“And then what?” A gentle hand stroked damp hair out of her face.

“And then it was just dark. Until the first bodies floated into view.” 

“Floated?” Zechs frowned. “In the harbor?”

“No.” She looked up at him. “In space. I… I think they spaced them. There were so many bodies… some were… some were children. None of them were wearing suits…” Her voice trailed off as she remembered the faces of the dead, frozen into screams that would never be heard in the vacuum of space. “Make it stop, Zechs. Oh god. Make it stop showing me!”

“I can’t,” He whispered, pulling her into his arms again. “I would if I could.”

“I know.” She rested her head wearily against his shoulder. “I think Howard may have been right.”

“Oh?”

“Fine-tuning Epyon’s focus doesn’t seem to have stopped the nightmares. It just made them a whole lot easier to see.”

He sighed, and just stroked her hair soothingly. “I’m sorry.”

“Me too,” she sighed, and wiped her eyes. “And God, I’m sick of crying on your shoulder like a simpering idiot with a case of the vapors.”

“Doro, you couldn’t simper if your life depended on it.” 

She blinked up at him and couldn’t quite stop the watery laugh. “Really?”

“Yes.” He glanced down at her warily. 

“That’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

Zechs stared down at her in surprise, then grinned ruefully. “I suppose it is, isn’t it? I’ll have to work harder then.” He sighed. “Come on… it’s still early. Think you can try to get a little more rest? You don’t have to fall asleep.”

“No, but I’ll try. You need to get some sleep, even if I can’t. One of us has to be conscious in case Duo and Lowell get lucky…” she trailed off, shivering suddenly. “But— can we leave the light on?”

***  
Duo watched grimly as dusk fell on the streets of Little Russia, and the changeover from urban community to urban hellhole began. The small retail shops were closing, and the few men and women on the street doing last minute Christmas shopping clutched their children and packages close as they scurried for the shelter of well-lit homes. Neon flickered on the in the windows of bars and clubs, and the first prostitutes began filtering onto the street corners. 

By the time true night fell, all those with homes to go to would be there; barricaded behind locked doors with the curtains drawn, they could pretend that this night was no different than any other. _There has been peace between Earth and the Colonies for a year now. Too bad we still haven’t figured out the goodwill-towards-our-fellow-man bit._

Once the pool of victims had widened, it had quickly become obvious that the majority of victims had _not_ been members of what Duo had termed The Lost. They’d been looking for a needle in the wrong damned haystack. And while there had been no way to determine what time of day most of the victims had been chosen by their killer, a second round of interviews with friends, family members and coworkers had revealed that most of those with jobs had vanished after leaving those jobs for the day. They also turned up the fact that several of the victims were in the habit of stopping by a pub on the way home from the docks and warehouses. _Most of them vanished around dusk, as near as we can tell…_

He couldn’t help scowling a little as the light faded. _The trap is set… and the bait is getting just a little testy here._ Duo caught sight of Lowell heading towards one of the bars half a block down the street, and could imagine that the older man was just as frustrated as he was. Something had to happen soon, or they were both going to lose their minds. Leaning back against the rough bricks, he watched the arrival of night to the streets of little Russia. 

***

Lowell shifted off his barstool, shoving the empty glass and a five credit bill towards the bartender as he stood. _Time to move on— no fish are going to bite here._

Stretching a little, he shot a covert look around the sparsely crowded bar. No one in the area might know the full extent of the murders, but it was obvious that fear had impacted the people here. _That or the entire population of Little Russia knows exactly what’s happening and isn’t telling._ Scowling, he headed for the street and the next bar. It was after sundown. Maybe nothing was going to happen. But he couldn’t shake the feeling that someone other than Duo was watching him. 

Not that that was surprising. He’d expected someone to start noticing that Little Russia had a new Good Samaritan now. He’d helped three elderly ladies across the street, stopped a purse-snatcher in his tracks, and broken up two brawls. What the hell did he have to do to get this nutcase’s attention?

Making sure to stagger a little, he headed down the street in an aimless path designed to take him through the heart of Little Russia. He caught a brief glimpse of Duo lurking in the shadowed mouth of an alley half a block down the street, and felt a sudden impulse to check in with his partner.

“Duo,” he spoke softly; knowing the sensitive wires they were both wearing would pick the noise up. Dorothy had insisted they wear them once they started trying to draw the killer out, and Lowell had to admit he felt slightly safer knowing Duo, and his partners, could hear anything that happened.

/“Here.”/ Duo’s voice was a soft whisper in his ear. /“Anything?”/

“Maybe. Stay close.”

/“Gotcha covered.”/

Glancing at the reflections in the storefront windows as he passed, he couldn’t see anyone following— but then he couldn’t see Duo anymore either. With a sigh, he turned to head into yet another bar; and stopped at the panicked cry from an alley ahead of him.

“No! Please – let me go!” It was a woman’s voice, and the terror in the muffled cry had him moving in that direction almost without thought. “Somebody help me!”

“Duo…”

/“I heard.”/ His partner sounded worried. /“Think this is it? They’re taking the bait?”/

“Don’t know. Could be just another chance to make my reputation. Stay out of sight till we know which it is.”

/“Be careful.”/

Lowell rolled his eyes, even as he turned the corner. The scene that awaited him, while unpleasant, was not exactly unexpected. A man had a much smaller woman backed against the alley wall, pinned with one hand as the other slid up beneath her skirt. She was sobbing hysterically as she struggled to get away, tears smearing her makeup in black streaks down her cheeks. 

“Hey, asshole!” Lowell grabbed the guy by the shoulder and peeled him away from the woman. _This can’t be the one. He’s big, but no bigger than I am. And I couldn’t have taken out either of those dock-workers on my own without taking some damage._

The man swung around to glare at Lowell, knocking his hand free with a low growl as he shoved him back. “This is none of your business, friend.” 

“I don’t count rapists as friends,” Lowell snarled. “Why don’t you leave the lady alone, and we’ll discuss this…” He broke off as the man charged him; ducking the fist heading for his jaw, he grabbed the man’s arm and let momentum swing his opponent into the alley wall. Moving quickly to block the way back to the woman sobbing behind him, he faced down the rapist and waited for the man’s next move.

They circled for a moment, testing each other before the man charged again. Each time, Lowell managed to put himself back between the man and his victim. _Shit. What the hell is this guy doing? He can’t seriously think he still has a chance to finish what he started— though why the hell she hasn’t run yet is beyond me. So what is he waiting for?_

His question was answered a moment later.

/”Get down!”/ Duo’s voice was loud in his ears, and Lowell instinctively dropped. A length of metal pipe swept through the air where his head would have been, and only narrowly missed his opponent. Rolling, he caught a glimpse of Duo tackling the woman from behind, knocking the metal bar from her hands as they hit the pavement. Then his attention was forced back to his own fight. The man facing him grinned suddenly.

“Something funny, asshole?” Lowell growled as he reached his feet again. 

The man nodded, but instead of answering, he simply threw himself at Lowell again. Caught up in blocking the sudden flurry of blows, it took Lowell a moment to realize that he was being forced farther into the alley. Feinting, he slid to the side and circled; not liking the exposed feeling of having his back to the unknown, he was more than happy to be the one forcing the direction. To his surprise, the man started laughing. The sound sent chills down Lowell’s back, especially since he was not sure what the man was finding humorous. _Okay. I’m guessing we found the nutcase._

“You really think you can take me?” The man snarled, throwing another punch at Lowell’s stomach. Ignoring the taunt, Lowell blocked the blow and then sidestepped quickly to avoid the man’s other fist. “You’ll have to catch me first.” With a last laugh, the man turned and ran. Too late, Lowell realized he’d been maneuvered out of the way of the man’s escape path

_Fuck._

“Duo!”

/“Go! I’ll catch up…”/ Duo sounded a little breathless, and Lowell spared his partner a quick glance before turning to chase his opponent. Duo had the woman pinned, and was attempting to lock handcuffs onto wildly flailing wrists. Other than the artfully streaked makeup, there was no sign of her earlier tears. Her eyes were filled with raw fury. 

“Be careful.”

/“Watch your back. Stop that you fucking bitch— Preventers! You’re under arrest, now _hold the hell still…_ ”/ Forcing himself not to laugh at the annoyed growl in his partner’s voice, Lowell tuned him out as he caught sight of his prey ahead of him. 

“Zechs, we need backup!”

/”On its way. Duo, go after him. I’ll take over here.”/

/”Right. On your six, Lowell.”/ 

Oddly relieved now that his partner was watching his back again, Lowell increased his own pace to keep up with the fleeing thug. They were running through a maze of alleys and narrow streets, and he was quickly losing all sense of direction. _Hope to hell our backup can find us once we take this asshole down._ He realized he’d said that out loud when he heard Duo’s breathless chuckle in his hear. 

/”You and me both, buddy. Where the hell’s this guy going?”/

A last turn and the maze of alleys suddenly opened out around them even as the sky was blocked out by the mass of the 87th street bridge snaking over their heads. Lowell caught a glimpse of the harbor on the other side of a rusted chain link fence, and the man he’d been chasing standing in the middle of the narrow courtyard formed by the fence and the crumbling buildings on either side. It was obvious that they were long abandoned, all the windows boarded up facing the courtyard and the doors chained shut. 

/”What the fuck is that smell?”/ Duo muttered as he and Lowell both stopped in the mouth of the alley. The man they had been chasing was still grinning at them, standing in the center of the open space as if he hadn’t a care in the world. Lowell wasn’t sure he really wanted to know what was causing the cloying reek, and it was all he could do not to throw up. Forcing himself to ignore the sickening stench, Lowell pulled his gun and took a cautious step into the open.

“Preventers. You’re under arrest,” he growled.

“Oh. Really?” The man laughed. “Of course you are. No one else in this godforsaken hole would have had the balls to follow me, not anymore.”

Stalking forward cautiously, Lowell kept a close eye on the suspect and trusted Duo to watch the shadows around them. The bridge blocked out any light from the sky, and the only light came from across the harbor; the thick darkness was beginning to take on a life of its own. He could feel it pressing around him, watching him…

/”Shit! He’s not alone.”/ Duo whispered softly, and Lowell could hear an odd tension in the younger man’s voice.

“How many?”

/”Not sure. Where the fuck is our backup?"/

/”Duo? Where the hell are you guys?”/

/”The harbor— under the bridge. It’s not a serial killer, Zechs, it’s a cult.”/

Lowell felt his flesh crawling at the soft words, and suddenly he felt far too exposed in the center of the courtyard.

/”Fucking hell— You okay?”/

/”You’d better get here damn fast, Zechs!”/

And then all hell broke loose.


	13. Dark Shadows

Lowell barely had time to hear Duo’s muttered curse before the shadows erupted and the two were surrounded by numerous black-clad figures. He threw himself towards the dubious shelter of a pile of rubble to his right, even as he tried to aim at the dark shapes throwing themselves at him.

“Duo!”

“Watch your back, man, there’s too fucking many…” Duo’s voice cut off abruptly, but when he risked a glance that way, the younger man was still on his feet, backing towards the opposite building as he danced out of the way of three of their attackers. 

“Get down…” Lowell whispered into the comlink. Duo dropped to the pavement, rolling suddenly against the legs surrounding him and knocking at least one of the swarm to the ground. Reaching into his jacket pocket, Lowell pulled out two of the flare grenades. He didn’t know how the hell Dorothy knew he’d need these, and didn’t care much at the moment. Making a mental note that he owed her dinner again, he pulled the pin on the first, tossed it into the center of the courtyard, and closed his eyes. 

There was a sharp flare of light behind closed lids; when he opened his eyes, the nightmarish scene had become even more surreal. The grenade had exploded, igniting some of the trash lying heaped around the alleyway; but the most dramatic effect was the literal rain of phosphorescent gel onto the largest cluster of cult members. 

Duo shoved off the faintly glowing man he’d grabbed as a shield against the grenade, and Lowell saw Duo grin as he pulled his gun and began targeting the angry swarm of no longer completely black clad attackers. Between the two of them, they were managing to hold their own, and even keep most of the gunfire non-lethal; though once the initial shock had worn off, a few of the cult members had begun to return fire with weapons previously hidden beneath the black clothing. 

Taking refuge behind the twisted remains of a fallen fire escape, Lowell tried to make each shot count. He and Duo had the advantage of superior training and weaponry, however their attackers outnumbered them and seemed to suffer from an almost suicidal fervor; it was only moments before he was forced to drop the gun and grapple hand to hand with them. He caught only scattered images of Duo, who had been bowled over by another group, before all of his attention had been taken up with his own fight. In spite of himself, he found himself being forced out of his shelter and backed towards the mouth of the alley. Tripping over a body on the ground, he staggered and heard a cry as Duo was thrust towards the fence.

“Shit.” With a grimace, he thrust the second flare grenade into the cluster of his attackers and threw himself backwards out into the alley. This time the detonation was met with screams as the gel bomb exploded in their faces. Rebounding quickly back into the courtyard, he managed to dispatch the temporarily blinded trio. Turning to face the fence, he was stunned to watch as Duo spun into a roundhouse kick that knocked two of his attackers to the pavement; at least one of them with a broken neck. 

Fewer of the cult members were on their feet by then, and it was quickly apparent that Duo was using much less finesse in taking out his opponents. _Huh. Guess that’s what happens when you have an ex-God of Death as your partner._ Shrugging mentally, Lowell decided to follow his lead. _No point in wasting the money to try all of these bastards._

It was only moments later that the two found themselves panting in a sea of black clad, groaning bodies. Lowell wiped a thin trail of blood out of his eyes, and scowled down at the bullet graze along his right thigh; but other than bruises, that seemed to be the extent of his own damage.   
Duo had fallen to one knee, but was more winded than injured as far as he could see. Lowell took a moment to retrieve his gun from the ground, turning as the younger man shook his head dazedly and reached for the fence to pull himself back to his feet. His only warning was a choked gasp, and he spun back towards Duo as the younger man collapsed into a boneless heap at the base of the trash-strewn fence. 

“Fuck, Zechs, where the hell is our backup!” He yelled, even as he started across the courtyard towards his fallen partner. No one on the ground looked to have been conscious enough to shoot the younger man, and he had heard no gunshots; not even the whistle of a silenced one. The gathering darkness made his skin crawl as he knelt to touch Duo’s throat. “Duo?” To his relief, he found a pulse, though it was beating far too fast for his comfort.

/”Get him the hell away from the fence, Lowell!”/ Zechs sounded on the edge of panic though the wire. 

“Zechs? What?” Lowell turned, half expecting to see the man behind him; but they were still alone in the alley. _How the hell did he know about the fence?_

/”No time. You have to move him. Now!”/ 

In spite of himself, Lowell found himself half- dragging Duo away from the fence while still trying to keep a wary eye on the shadows. He still had no clue if someone outside the small area had done something to take down his partner. _They couldn’t all have been in this one place… could they?_ The thought of being watched by more members of the cult was unnerving, and he prayed silently that it was just paranoia, coupled with the terrible stench that seemed to have become one with both his skin and Duo’s, that was sending his imagination into overdrive. 

A movement at the mouth of the alley caught his attention, and he dropped Duo even as he moved into a defensive crouch over his unconscious partner. 

“Status!” Zechs barked, before moving out of the mouth of the alley and into the courtyard. A team of Preventers in protective armor followed him into the area, spreading out to cover the fallen bodies strewn across the pavement. Lowell sagged back on his heels in relief, and let his gun hand drop to his side.

“Preventer down…” 

Zechs’ hand dropped onto his shoulder, even as he fell to his knees next to Duo. “Sally and Dorothy are already on their way. Are you okay?”

“I… that was… a little more than I expected when I agreed to play bait. What the fuck took you guys so long?”

“I had to wait for them.” Zechs nodded absently at the squad of agents sorting the living suspects from the dead ones, though he was still working at examining Duo. “I could find you, but they wouldn’t have a chance in hell of tracking you through that maze.”

Lowell bit back the instinctive question of how Zechs’ had tracked them if the rest of the Preventers couldn’t. There would be time for questions later, after they were sure Duo would be all right. Zechs peeled away the top layer of clothing from the younger man, with a disgusted grimace for what appeared to be a layer of slime on the filthy cloth from where Lowell had dragged him. 

“No blood, that’s good,” the blond muttered as he checked Duo’s pulse again. “What the hell is that smell?”

“No idea, and I really don’t want to know,” Lowell muttered. “I’m just hoping it comes off.”

“No shit.” Zechs sighed. “Duo. Come on, kiddo, don’t do this to me. Wake up.”

There was no response. 

“Was he touching anything else besides the fence when he dropped?” Zechs asked grimly, barely looking up from the pale face beneath his fingers as he slapped Duo lightly.

“No, not that I was aware of…”

“Shit.” Zechs turned his head to regard the fence, and Lowell bit back still more questions at the dark look on the man’s face. “That was probably enough though.”

“He looked shaky right before though, and he’d stopped being careful when he was fighting.”

“That doesn’t surprise me any…” Zechs muttered. “I’m just glad he held it together long enough to kick some ass.”

“You expected something like this? And you let him go on this mission?”

“No!” Zechs snapped at him, and then sighed. “None of us expected this.” The man threw another haunted look at the fence. “If I’d thought he’d end up at the site of the murders I’d have sent Dorothy in with you.”

“Yeah, that wouldn’t have tipped off the bad guys…” Lowell frowned. “How do you know this is the site of all the murders?”

“You’ll have to trust me on that one.” Zechs shuddered. “Which probably explains that damn smell.”

“Zechs!” They both looked up as Dorothy and Sally arrived on the scene at a dead run. Sally took one look at the situation and dived to her knees next to Duo, her medical bag open in her hand.

“Injuries?”

“No…” Zechs shook his head. “None that we can find, anyway. He’s unconscious, fast pulse rate… signs of shock…” He glanced at Dorothy, and for the first time, Lowell saw hints of panic in the pale blue eyes. “He touched the fence…”

She looked over Lowell’s shoulder and turned pale. “That’s… oh god…don’t tell me…”

“Yeah,” he winced. “And trust me, we haven’t found all the bodies yet.”

“Shit,” Dorothy growled, even as she picked up one of Duo’s hands in hers. “What the hell was he thinking?”

“According to Lowell, he was being affected just by proximity. It disoriented him enough he may not have realized until too late.”

“What the hell are you two talking about?” Lowell was almost relieved to find that he wasn’t the only one mystified by the conversation, as Sally looked up long enough to glare at the two agents. “Touching a fence shouldn’t have knocked him out unless it was electrified, and there aren’t burns on his hands.”

“That’s not necessarily true in Duo’s case,” Dorothy muttered, though it was obvious that very little of her attention was on the blond doctor. “Can’t they give you any damn advice? And are we sure it’s not this… crap… that’s all over him?”

“They’re just a little occupied right now.” Zechs glanced over his shoulder and winced. “And I am pretty sure that’s organic. We need to get him out of here. He’s going to overload if we don’t.”

“Uh, Zechs, I hate to say this, but he’s already reached overload,” Dorothy growled. “That is why he’s currently unconscious.” She frowned. “Organic, yeah. But would it be considered inanimate? He did react almost the same way at the Jameson’s.”

“If someone doesn’t start making sense soon…” Sally raised her head and glared at the two agents. “You’ll all be suspended. What the fuck is going on here?”

They gaped at her, and then flushed almost in unison while Lowell watched in fascination. Zechs blinked and then seemed to focus on something just past Dorothy’s shoulder. Shaking his head a little, he looked back at Sally. “There’s no time. We can’t risk him waking up here. We need to get him back to Purgatory, now. Lowell, give me a hand…”

“Purgatory?”

“The Homicide office.” Zechs gritted out. “Sally, please. You have to trust us.”

She stared at them for a long moment before reaching a decision. “Alright. But I had better get answers and they’d better be damn good.” Turning away, she motioned for one of the paramedic teams that had arrived on the scene while they had all been otherwise distracted. “Preventer down. I need him at the clinic as of two hours ago.”

“Yes ma’am.” A stretcher appeared and before Lowell or Zechs could react, Duo had been lifted carefully onto it. 

“Jordan… I need a forensics team to go over every square millimeter of this place. Keep it under guard and…” She glanced at Zechs. “Concentrate on that fence.”

“Yes Ma’am, Captain Po.”

“Let’s go. You too, Lowell. Are you injured?”

“No…” He muttered, shaking his head a little. He wondered if maybe he’d taken a blow to the head that was keeping anything from making sense, but that wouldn’t explain Sally’s confusion either. “I’m okay.”

“Zechs, give him a hand. I want Duo in my lab as soon as possible…”

He stood, with a hand up from Dorothy, as Zechs stared blankly at nothing. Then the man snapped out of his daze and followed the stretcher bearing Duo to the waiting ambulance.

***  
Zechs closed his eyes, slumping into the passenger seat of the car and trying to block out the nightmare visions of the alley. It had been disturbing enough for the others, and they hadn’t seen the cluster of dead souls milling around the fence where they’d all died. All were still bearing the marks of the cult’s torture, and most did not appear to have any true sense that time had passed; or that the torture had ended when they’d died. He’d seen the horror on Treize’s face as the older ghost had followed Solo into the cluster of dead to try to get answers; and then to convince them that they were dead and could leave this nightmare of their death behind.

_I can’t even imagine what Duo must have felt, touching the place where that many people had been tortured. This is my fault. I shouldn’t have waited for more backup. I should have gone after them as soon as we realized it was a cult…_

“Zechs?” Dorothy put a hand on his shoulder, and he looked up in shock to see that they were parked behind the main Preventers complex. “Are you…?”

“I’m fine.”

“Yeah, right. You can’t tell me that whatever was on that fence didn’t affect you too.” She glared at him. “You’re white as a… as… well…”

“You left out the part where I threw up in the alley,” he muttered, completely without humor. His eyes were locked on the ambulance directly before them, where Duo was being unloaded. Sally was hovering over the younger man, though there was nothing she could see to treat him for. Unseen by anyone else was the nun also hovering over Duo with a worried look on her face.

“Yeah well, lots of people were doing that.” She nodded at where Lowell was climbing out of the ambulance as well, looking just as pale and shaken as Zechs. “Let’s go. He’s going to need us there to focus on…”

“Focus… Shit Doro, you’re a genius!” He stumbled as he realized what they had to do, then grabbed her and in sheer relief, kissed her hard. She tensed in shock; then melted into his arms for a moment before shoving him back.

“Zechs? What are you doing?”

“Thanking you. I need you to go to Purgatory. Grab the cross… and… um… do you have any jewelry without sentimental value?”

He could see the moment understanding hit her. “Right. Meet you guys there.” She nodded at the door to the clinic. “Stay with him?”

“Yeah. Hurry, though.”

***

Dorothy dived into the back room of Purgatory, concentrating on finding Duo’s cross so that she wouldn’t think about the kiss. Not that that seemed to be working, since she could still feel the hard, warm pressure of Zechs’ mouth against hers.

_It’s no big deal… he was just relieved. It doesn’t mean anything,_ she told herself firmly, as she threw open the trunk with Duo’s belongings and fished out the velvet bag holding the cross. _He was in love with Treize… and now Duo. You’re just the girl they both feel comfortable hanging around with. Don’t make a big deal out of this and fuck that up too._

Swearing softly, she turned to dig through her own small trunk of belongings to find a neutral piece of jewelry. _And it’s all well and good to think this will work, but I hope he has an idea of how to imprint this._ Finding a plain silver ring that was a little too big for her to wear comfortably, she slammed the trunk closed and ran for the door. _He’s got to be okay. We can’t do this without him. Not anymore._


	14. Waking the Dead

Zechs moved to where Duo was laid out on an emergency exam table, ignoring the paramedics moving around them as he brushed Duo’s too-long bangs out of his face. The younger man was still unconscious, though his pulse rate had slowed a bit from the frantic pace when they’d first reached him. 

“Lowell, how bad is the leg?” Sally asked, glancing up from where she was scraping some of the slime off of Duo into a sample vial. Zechs followed her gaze to see Lowell leaning heavily against another table; he hadn’t noticed that the agent was favoring one leg slightly, blood mixing with the filth on his jeans.

“Not bad…” Lowell shrugged a little. “Keep working on Duo. I’m fine. It’s just a graze.”

“Right,” she glared at him and then sighed. “But I will get to you. If you’re not bleeding at the moment though, there’s a shower through that door. Try to get as much of that crap off as you can. Keep it out of the wound too, as much as possible—shit.” Sealing the bottle in her hands, she set it aside and tossed an empty one to Zechs. “Merquise, give him a hand. And get a sample of that stuff from him too.”

Zechs raised one eyebrow; reluctant to leave Duo’s side even to help Lowell.

“I think I can manage by myself, thanks,” Lowell glanced at him and then shrugged a little sheepishly. “No offense.”

“You sure?” Zechs handed Lowell the vial, and then reached out to put a hand on the other man’s shoulder.

“Uh… yeah.” Lowell glanced down at Duo, as the unconscious agent shifted with a low groan. “I think he needs you more.” 

Zechs nodded, turning back to place a soothing hand on Duo’s forehead; stilling the restless tossing.

“There are extra scrubs near the showers. Help yourself.” Sally frowned at both of them this time, as Lowell took the vial from Zechs, then headed for the shower. “Men. Can’t live with them… and get arrested for shooting their stubborn asses.”

“I’m sorry… what was that?” Zechs wished he had enough humor left to smile at the disgruntled mumble. 

“Nothing. I suppose as long as you’re here, you might as well be useful,” Sally admitted grudgingly as she turned towards the table, holding a mobile monitor in one hand. The doctor threw him a last measuring look before glancing at the paramedics milling by the door. “Johannes, go with Lowell. I want samples of that stuff. And make sure he stays conscious. Grisham… you’re with me.” 

The shorter of the two paramedics moved around to stand at Duo’s feet, mirroring Zechs’ position at Duo’s head. “Keep him as still as you can.”

Zechs nodded, gripping Duo’s hands firmly in his. “No one has died on this exam table, have they?”

“What?” She blinked at him. “No, of course not.”

“Just checking,” Zechs muttered. _Come on Duo, wake up. There shouldn’t be anything trapping you in the loop here, away from the fence… unless it’s that slime on you that was the trigger._ Raising his eyes slightly, he met Sister Helen’s worried gaze across the table; then both of them turned to watch Sally as she ran the scanner down Duo’s body.

To his relief, Dorothy burst in the door a moment later with a bundle of clothing in her hands, as well as the small velvet bag containing Duo’s cross. 

“Did you find it?”

“Yeah,” she nodded, dropping the clothes onto one of the chairs. “I brought you guys some clothes too, figured you’d want to clean that shit off as soon as possible.”

“Thanks.” He glanced at Sally, who was frowning down at the monitor in her hand. “What?”

“There’s no sign of a blow to the head, and no injury to account for the shock. I don’t know why he passed out… “ she broke off suspiciously. “Or has he stopped sleeping again?”

“He hasn’t been sleeping a lot, but he is sleeping,” Zechs winced. “Sally, I don’t think it’s physical trauma.” 

“Then what is it?” She stepped back a little. “You two know something. I want to hear it. Now.”

“No. Not now.” Steeling himself, he caught a glimpse of Grisham’s eyes taking in the scene with morbid fascination. “Let us take care of Duo first. Then I… we’ll… explain. You have to trust us.” 

“So you keep saying.” The flat tone in her voice warned him that she wouldn’t be put off for long. “But none of you are leaving this room until I have answers.”

“We promise. But we’ll only tell you, and Lowell. No one else,” Dorothy snapped, and there was no doubting the steel in her voice. “The paramedics, they don’t have the clearance for this.” 

Sally looked ready to argue, then suddenly sighed. “Fine. Grisham, take the samples to the lab and start running them, I want the results as soon as you can get them for me.”

Grisham looked a little disgruntled, but within moments had retrieved the second sample vial from the bathroom, and vanished out the door.

“Happy?”

“Yes.” Dorothy moved over to take Duo’s other hand before meeting Zechs’ eyes over his prone body. “You sure about this? Introducing more trauma at this point, something we know is going to cause nightmares…”

He glanced over to see Sister Helen nod slightly. “I don’t think we have a choice. We have to break the loop. And at least this one we’re all accustomed to dealing with.”

Biting her lip, she held out the bag to him. He couldn’t help hesitating as he took it and feeling no more sure of what he was doing than she was. 

“What about this?” She held out a plain silver ring as well. “Will it work?”

He couldn’t help glancing at Sister Helen for reassurance. The nun looked thoughtfully at it. ‘You will need to charge it.’

_‘How?’_

‘Duo only seems to sense strong emotions, but they don’t have to deal with death or tragedy.’ She smiled at him. ‘I can see the way you both feel about him… and each other. You have to find a way to lock that emotion onto this object.’ Transparent fingers reached out to brush the ring. ‘Have faith.’

“I don’t believe in your God…”

She shook her head. ‘This isn’t about my God. This is about the closest thing to a son I ever had. And he needs the two of you now— more than he’s ever needed my God.’

“What?” Dorothy prompted softly, interrupting his thoughts as he tried to unravel the nun’s words. Looking up, he fell into worried blue eyes—and understanding hit.

“Duo pulled us out of our shells. It’s time we returned the favor.” Ignoring Sally’s presence at the foot of the table, he reached across Duo to lace his fingers with Dorothy’s and tugged slightly; until she leaned across the table far enough that he could whisper in her ear. “I know you love him. He needs you, so hold onto that. We can pull him out of this.”

“But…”

“We just have to have faith.” Seeing the doubt in her eyes, he smiled faintly and felt the last pieces fall into place. “I love him too. I love both of you. And I need both of you alive and whole and sane. We figured out months ago that we’d all been alone too long. Don’t let go of that. It’s our link to sanity, remember?”

Closing his eyes, and concentrating on how he felt about both of his partners, he barely heard a sharp, indrawn breath against his cheek. “Oh…”

Time stilled for a long moment, and then abruptly lurched to a start again as the door to the bathroom opened. “Doc…” Startled, both of them let go and jumped back; the ring clattered softly to the floor as Johannes halted in the doorway in surprise. “What the hell is going on?”

“Shit!” Dorothy reached down to pick up the ring, but stopped as Zechs’ caught her shoulder. 

“Not yet. We have to break this cycle first. Leave it for now. And don’t touch it with your bare fingers… just in case.”

“This had better work,” she groaned, as he pulled the cross out the bag. 

“Doc? What the fuck is this, an exorcism?”

“Grisham’s in the lab.” Sally’s voice was tight, and from the expression on her face she was undecided whether to trust them or start calling for orderlies with sedatives. “Go help him with the sample analysis.”

“But, what the—?”

“Go!”

“You heard the Doctor,” Lowell spoke up from behind the man. “Zechs? Dorothy? You two okay? You look like you’ve just seen a ghost…”

Dorothy couldn’t quite bite back a laugh, though it bordered on hysterical. “You have no idea. Let’s get this over with, hm?”

Barely hearing the door close behind the paramedic, Zechs held his breath as he pressed the cross into Duo’s lax fingers. The effect was immediate and frightening; even expecting something to happen, neither of them was prepared for Duo to convulse as if he was holding a live wire. It took all four of them to catch him before he could roll off the table.

“Zechs, that’s enough…” Dorothy whispered. “Please.”

‘Now!’ Sister Helen whispered. 

Zechs didn’t even glance in her direction as he pried the cross back out of Duo’s fingers and dropped it carelessly to the ground. _Please let this work. Don’t let us have hurt him this badly for nothing._ Dorothy bent to snatch the ring off the floor, using a corner of her sleeve to shield the metal from her fingers until she could force it into Duo’s hand. Duo groaned, and his fist closed tightly around the metal; staying tight even as the rest of his body went limp and he collapsed back onto the table.

“What the hell…?” Lowell whispered softly. 

Zechs just sighed and leaned against the table, unable to do anything but stare helplessly at his partner. Duo was laying very still, his eyes closed and his skin pale beneath the grime. But the rigid tension that had racked his narrow frame since they’d pulled him out of the alley had eased, and the lines of pain were fading from his face. 

“Is he…?” Dorothy looked equally stunned, and Zechs reached out a hand squeeze her shoulder softly. Sally brushed them aside to pass the monitor over Duo again, and despite the sudden release of tension in the room, they all instinctively leaned closer to read it.

“Nobody— better yell—clear,” Duo’s voice was ragged beneath them. Zechs glanced down to see hazed blue eyes peering up at them warily. “What the _fuck_ —just happened?”

”Duo?” Dorothy’s voice cracked, and he blinked up at her in confusion. “Are you alright?”

“No,” he muttered. “I think I got stomped on by a Gundam. Maybe two.” He took a slightly deeper breath and coughed a little. “Maybe more. Christ… what the… _hell_?”

“Duo,” Sally’s voice intruded firmly. “What happened?”

“I… Uh… shit. I’m not sure.” He glanced around a little uncertainly. “I remember fighting a bunch of nuts in black… and then… starting to stand up. And then I just remember a lot of pain.”

“Do you remember the fence?” Zechs asked softly. 

Duo blinked up at him, paling even more. “Oh… _fuck_.” He tried to sit up, the motion as frantic as it was uncoordinated, but his aching body appeared unwilling to cooperate. Finally giving up on vertical motion, he resorted to just rolling to the edge of the table before emptying the contents of his stomach onto the floor. Zechs and Lowell both jumped out of the way, though Zechs kept one hand on Duo’s back to hold him on the table.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Zechs sighed. 

“Okay. He’s awake— and the two of you are somehow responsible for it. So start talking,” Sally Po growled, stalking around the table to hand Duo a towel. “What the hell is going on here?”

“Right.” Dorothy threw Zechs and Duo a questioning look. “Um… we...uh…”

“Don’t look at me,” Duo shrugged. “I had to explain it last time. It’s somebody else’s turn.” He coughed again. “ _And what the hell is this crap all over me? Shit!_ ”

“Duo?” Zechs threw an arm around him worriedly, as he nearly lurched off the table. 

“My skin is crawling— Get it off!” Pain and exhaustion were rapidly shifting into outright panic in his voice. Without even pausing to think about it, Zechs reached down to scoop his partner off the table and headed for the bathroom.

***

Sally stared at the bathroom door as it slammed shut behind them, then turned to Dorothy with a baleful glare. “Okay. Looks like you’re elected. Start talking.”

“Duo…” Taking a deep breath, Dorothy bent down to pick up the cross from the floor.   
“Duo is an empath. Sort of.”

“An empath.” Sally’s tone was flat, giving no indication of her thoughts. “I thought Quatre was the empath.”

“He is. I don’t suppose either of you are familiar with the term psychometry?”

“No…”

“It’s the ability to pick up psychic impressions from physically touching an object.” Dorothy sighed. “Duo is extremely sensitive to touch. Especially towards objects that were— impressed with strong emotion or trauma.”

“And his reaction tonight?”

“We have been after a serial killer, Sally; apparently an entire cult full of them. And all of their victims were tortured before they were killed.”

“Oh shit,” Lowell muttered softly, and both women turned to glance at him. “They killed them there—on that fence?”

“According to Zechs, and Duo’s reaction, yes.” Dorothy dropped the cross into her pocket. “It was too strong for Duo to control, and he overloaded. At a guess, it was similar to if the fence was actually electrified, and he reacted physically to that trauma by shutting down.”

“And that business with the cross?” Sally prompted. Dorothy still could not read any expression to tell her if the woman was buying the explanation or not.

“The cross is imprinted with a pattern from Duo’s childhood. The Maxwell Church massacre. It’s how we found out about him, actually. He had a lot of recurring nightmares when we first… um… became partners.” Dorothy shrugged. “We… Zechs that is, figured that we needed to break the loop that he was trapped in, and that a similar trauma might do it.”

“What about the ring?”

“We needed to give him a focus, something to ground him once the feedback loop was broken. Since the cross wouldn’t do that for him, we needed to come up with something previously neutral…”

“I see.” Dorothy threw Sally a nervous look, not sure how to interpret the older woman’s voice. “So how does Zechs tie into the fact that Duo is— sensitive to touch.”

“Huh?”

“You said according to Zechs’ and Duo’s reactions, implying that he also picked up something at the site. And Zechs’ has never struck me as the type to throw up in an alley just because of a smell— No matter how foul it was.”

“Well—er— no. He’s not.” _Shit. I was hoping she hadn’t caught that slip…_

“So?”

“Um… he…uh…” Closing her eyes, Dorothy took a deep breath. “I… this is the part we didn’t want to tell anyone. I promise you, we aren’t crazy. It’s just going to sound like it.”

“I’ll believe that,” Sally sounded almost amused. “Go on. I’m listening.”

“Zechs— sees ghosts.” There was silence from the two people watching her. “And talks to them.” She cracked open her eyes and glanced quickly at Lowell and Sally; both of whom were staring at her in bemusement. “It’s actually rather useful in homicide investigations.”

“He—sees ghosts.” Lowell stared at her, his brown eyes filling with sudden pain. “That’s how you knew Seely Jameson hadn’t been kidnapped. And why you kept searching the house…”

“Yeah.” She shrugged. “But we had to find her body in order to prove it.” She started to rub her forehead, but realized her fingers were still covered in grime from holding onto Duo. Looking around, she finally wiped her fingers off on the sterile sheet from the empty exam table.

“And when he said he could find us, but the rest of the Preventer’s couldn’t…”

“He had two ghosts, uh, tailing you. They led him through the maze.”

“I see.” Lowell sank down onto a chair against one wall of the exam room, looking more than a little stunned. “That would explain a few things…”

“This is insane.” Sally Po shook her head. “You honestly expect me to believe that you are using psychic phenomena to solve homicide cases? That’s not going to stand up in court…”

“We don’t exactly advertise our methods,” Dorothy snapped. “And it doesn’t have to stand up in court. We don’t give you results based solely upon that. Everything we give you has hard forensic evidence to back it up. And you can’t deny that. The fact that we have a little extra help finding the evidence doesn’t mean that it’s not valid evidence.” 

“This is…”

“Sally, believe us or not. Do whatever you have to do—fire us if you want to. But we didn’t ask for this, and we can’t just turn it off. So we might as well be making good use of it, right?” Zechs spoke from the doorway to the bathroom. Duo was leaning heavily against him, and both of them were dressed in scrubs. For the first time, Dorothy realized that Zechs hadn’t bothered to take the time to pick up the spare clothes on his way into the bathroom with Duo. “All we ask is that you keep this a secret for now.” He included Lowell in that, looking from the doctor to their occasional partner. “We didn’t want to hide it from you because we didn’t trust you, it’s just…well… not something we choose to tell people.”

“I can understand that.” Lowell shook his head a little, still looking stunned. “I wouldn’t have told me either.”

“And Sally, you can’t tell Une. Not yet.”

“What? Are you insane?” She looked up at him, her eyes blazing with indignation. “Wait, forget I asked that…”

“No, we aren’t. Not yet anyway.” He grimaced. “But… one of the ghosts… I really don’t think she’s ready to deal with this aspect of it.”

Sally stared at them for a long moment, and Dorothy saw the moment understanding hit her. “General Khushrenada?” Her eyes traveled to Duo, who appeared only half- conscious at best as he let Zechs hold him on his feet. “And Duo agreed to work with you?”

“Yes.” 

“Damn. Either he was really desperate for friends or you are one smooth talker…”

“Let’s just say we’ve come to an understanding about Treize’s presence,” Zechs sighed wearily. “Besides, the other ghosts are Duo’s.” His arm tightened around his companion. “And it’s been a long day. Can we continue this conversation tomorrow? Or are you going to throw us in a detention cell?” He quirked a small smile at her. “Besides, you’re about to have your hands full.”

“What?” She broke off as the door opened to reveal the first arrivals of injured suspects from the crime scene. “Shit. Fine. Go. But we will talk about this again, I promise you that.”

“Understood.” Zechs nodded to her, then turned to glance at Lowell. “Lowell… you were… thanks for watching his back through this.”

“No problem,” Lowell smiled faintly. “He was watching my back too. And it was interesting working with you.”

“Any time,” Dorothy added, as Zechs and Duo reached her and she slipped her shoulder under his other arm. “You know where to find us.” 

Turning away, they headed back to Purgatory.


	15. In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida

Duo kept his eyes on the floor, concentrating on putting one shaky leg in front of another until they reached the sanctuary of Purgatory. He wasn’t sure what to say to either of his companions about whatever had happened back in the emergency room. It had been weird enough to wake up to the strong emotions coming from the ring he was now wearing; not to mention feeling like the Libra had landed on his chest. _But it was definitely weirder to have taken a shower with Zechs’ help._ His thoughts shied away from that even as the slow burn of a blush spread across his face. _I mean, it’s not like I haven’t seen him naked and even having sex before, but… damn._

“Duo?” Dorothy’s hesitant voice broke into his thoughts and pulled him back to reality, as his partners lowered him onto the couch. “Are you okay?”

“I, uh… think so.” He ducked his head again, suddenly feeling incredibly shy and more than a little foolish. _Get a grip. You’ve been sleeping in the same bed with both of them for two months._

“So,” Zechs settled down on the couch next to him, and after a moment, Dorothy sank down on the other side. “We should probably talk, and then try to get some sleep. Tomorrow is likely to be ugly.”

“No shit,” Duo groaned. _Talk. Yeah. That would probably be good. Of course, it would help if I had any idea what to start with besides ‘Hey, so were you guys serious when you kinda told me that you both loved me? Or were you just trying to save my sanity?’_ Closing his eyes, he leaned his head back against the wall. _And do I want them to have meant it? Okay, yeah. Stupid question. Face it, somewhere along the way, you fell for both of them too. But why the hell would they want me? I’m just a street rat. Besides, what about Treize?_

“Yeah,” Dorothy sighed, leaning back next to him. “Go ahead, Zechs.”

“I…oh Hell.” Zechs shook his head in frustration. 

Before Duo had any idea what was happening, he found himself being thoroughly kissed. Hard. His eyes flew open, even as Zechs’ fingers tangled in the damp hair that neither of them had bothered to put back in its proper braid. _What the fuck? Okay. I guess Zechs meant it…_ At that point, he stopped caring about making sense of the situation and simply gave into it. Just when he thought his brain would overload for the second time that evening, Zechs let go of him to lean across and kiss Dorothy equally thoroughly. Duo couldn’t help smiling at the startled look on her face, though she seemed to get over her surprise a little sooner than he had. 

Zechs finally sat back and just watched them silently for a moment, the fingers of one hand tangled in Duo’s hair, and the other hand gripping Dorothy’s fingers as if he expected her to flee.

“Okay,” Duo finally managed, amazed that he could speak at all. “I guess that works too. Though I was kind of expecting words when you said we needed to talk.”

“I just, I nearly lost you today… and I finally understood what Treize has been trying to beat into my head since we went to Jamaica,” Zechs sighed, sounding a little uncertain. “I lost one person I loved out of stubbornness. I refuse to do it again. You two are far too important for me to keep fighting this.” Zechs shrugged a little. “But I don’t want to lose your friendship either… so…”

Duo glanced at Dorothy out of the corner of his eye, trying to judge her reaction. He was still floundering with the idea of one of his partners wanting him, as more than just a partner or a friend. From the look on her face, the idea was just as new to her. 

“I figured you guys would eventually come to your senses and get together,” she finally muttered. “But, are you sure? I didn’t think you went for girls.”

“I didn’t go for Noin,” Zechs sighed. “She was like a sister to me, not a lover. And Leia, I was too jealous of Leia to get past that.” He laughed a little. “Besides, you aren’t just a girl. You’re part of Purgatory—not to mention one of my best friends, both now and in the past.”

She looked oddly close to tears again. “Dammit, Zechs…”

“What?” He let go of her hand, lifting his fingers to brush gold hair out of her eyes. “Treize was wrong? You don’t love us?”

“Of course I love you guys.” She scowled at him in mock anger. “How could I not? This is just a little much to process, y’know?”

“I know.” He sighed and tugged lightly on Duo’s hair. “What about you? Or have we scared you off yet?”

“Scared me off?” Duo blinked. “No. Blown my mind out of the water, yes. Doro’s right. This is a little much to process, when my brain already feels like Swiss cheese.” He shrugged, and then moved to lean against Zechs wearily. “But if you guys are serious… I uh… I mean…” To his mortification, he blushed again. “Shit. I’m not very experienced with this love shit. I’ll be honest there. And I… never… I mean… You guys are so…. Oh… hell. Yes?”

“Yeah,” Zechs laughed again, softly. “It’s okay, Duo. This is going to be new for all of us. But when you think about it, nothing’s really changing. Is it?”

“Yes… I mean… no.” Duo shook his head. “I can’t think. All I know is that there’s no one else I want to be with than you two. Both of you.”

“Good.” Zechs leaned down to kiss him again, gently. “And on that note, much as I would like to keep working this out— You’re about to fall asleep on us, and what fun would that be? Come on.”

“You sure you guys want to sleep with me tonight?” Duo blinked as he was lifted off the couch. _When the hell did he stand up?_ “It’s pretty much guaranteed that I won’t sleep peacefully.”

“And that would be unusual, why?” Dorothy followed them up, but hesitated at the door to the inner room. “Wait. I’ll… I’ve got to…”

“Dorothy?”

“You guys got to shower already,” she grinned at them, the humor returning for the first time in hours. “Together I might add. I still feel slimy from that alley, though Duo’s not reacting to my touch so I doubt I got much of it on me. I’ll be there in a bit, okay?”

“Don’t be long…” Zechs murmured. 

“With two gorgeous guys waiting for me to come to bed with them? You must be kidding, right?”

***  
Treize glanced around the open courtyard, and ruefully concluded that dawn had not improved the nightmarish scene any. The forensic teams sent by the Preventers were still hard at work sorting through the trash and debris, a task that they had spent the entire night doing; he couldn’t see that it was going to be finished any time soon, either. The area beyond the fence had been used as a dumping ground for garbage for years, and it was going to take weeks to search through the mess of half opened trashbags and rotting filth. _Needle in a haystack. Without Duo, they aren’t even going to know what is related to these murders and what isn’t. I know from talking to the victims all night that a large number of the murder weapons were simply tossed over the fence. God only knows how many of them went into the harbor._

Turning away from the harbor, and the cluster of victims still milling around the fence, he looked around for Solo. The younger ghost was sitting to one side, perched on the twisted remains of a fire escape with his head buried in his arms. _Last night was hell for me. It must have been a whole lot harder for him, not being able to go with Duo. But damn I’m glad he stayed._  
He’d seen the conflict in the younger man’s eyes as Duo was carried out of the alley, and knew that only the presence of Sister Helen at the stretcher’s side had kept Solo in the alley last night. Torn between his friend and the newfound sense of duty that helping the living members of Purgatory had given him— it had been a hard choice to make. In the end, Treize suspected that it was only the knowledge that they needed to help the murder victims, and that he had the most experience with that, that had made the decision for him.

Moving over to Solo’s side, Treize sat down next to the younger ghost, and rested one hand on the bent head. Solo flinched; shivering a little as Treize drew him close. 

‘I’m ‘kay…’ The words were muffled. 

‘Bullshit.’ Treize smiled sadly. ‘I’m not okay, and I started a war. I’ve watched more people die than I care to remember. This was…is…’

Solo shuddered again, instinctively leaning into the arm Treize wrapped around thin shoulders. _God… he’s just a kid. I don’t know how old he was when he died, but he was definitely too young by far to have to deal with this._

‘’m not that young.’ Solo muttered, and Treize realized that the younger ghost had heard his musings. ‘N’one who grew up on L2 is that young.’

‘Oh? And how old were you when you died?’ Treize turned the topic of the conversation onto something other than the scene around them gratefully.

‘Dunno…’ Solo raised his head, and stared up at Treize uncertainly. ‘… Didn’t really keep track much. But older’n you think.’

‘Right.’ Treize shook his head. 

‘I don’t lie, any mor’n Duo does.’ Solo looked almost indignant. ‘And I’d been in that gang for almost eleven years when we found Duo.’

‘That doesn’t tell me much.’

Solo snorted. ‘Fine. I was prob’ly about the age Duo’s now when I died. Brain found me hid’n in the back room of a store after a riot. Guessed that it’d been my parents that owned it, but who knows. Anyway… he guess’d I was maybe two or three at the time.’ The ghost frowned pensively. ‘Brain led the gang f’r a long time. He’s smart, y’know? And he w’s way older’n any of us. He died the year we found Duo. I doubt the kid remembers him much though, he was about the same age that I was when he was picked up.’

‘How long was he… did you lead the gang?’ 

‘Five years. Sister Helen said they guessed at Duo’s age when he was taken to the ‘phanage was maybe eight.’

Treize couldn’t help eyeing his companion skeptically. ‘You don’t look seventeen, much less eighteen.’

Solo saw the look and smirked. ‘How old’ya think I was?’

‘Fourteen. Maybe.’

Solo rolled his eyes. ‘Yeah, a life of bad food will do that. You go from looking young to being dead real fast. I was practically ancient on the streets when I died. Prob’ly why I caught the plague in the f’rst place. The old’r ones… we gave the food to the little’ns most of the time.’

‘I’m sorry.’

‘S’not much to do bout it now. But thanks.’ Solo glanced up, then looked away sheepishly. ‘You’re not so bad for a ‘dult. Thought ya’d be a jerk or somethin…’ With a last sigh, Solo jumped off the chunk of twisted metal he’d been sitting on. ‘Let’s get this done. I want’a check on the kid soon. I know the nun s’d he was okay, but…’

‘Alright.’ Treize stood up to follow Solo to the fence. ‘And you are still just a kid yourself.’

‘Whatever…’ The word drifted back to him over the other ghost’s shoulder, but for some reason Treize thought he sounded almost amused rather than upset. ‘I still know more about bein’ dead than you.’

***

Trowa scowled down at the chart of the L2 colonies. With the exception of the half-built L6 colony, it was the smallest colony cluster; it was comprised of four of the oldest and poorest colonies. From the looks of them, routine maintenance of the control rooms had stopped long before the war, and maintenance of the hulls had occurred only when a breach was either eminent or had already occurred. The image of L2- V08895 on the view screen behind them showed a scarred, patched surface. Sighing, he glanced at the group of Preventers gathered around the table. 

“We’ll be breaking up into four teams, one for each colony. Each team will make their way to the control rooms of their assigned colony and replace the environmental controls.” He paused, pulling a schematic of the control rooms for the L2 colonies out of the stack of charts and spreading it on the table. “It is unknown how much damage the colonies sustained during the war. We’ll be working in full environmental suits.”

“Damn…” he heard someone mutter, the soft curse bitten off sharply as the speaker was elbowed sharply by a companion. 

“Are there any questions?” 

“Are we getting hazard pay for this?” Someone else muttered.

“Yes.” 

“How about overtime for doing this shit on Christmas Eve?”

Trowa swallowed a sigh and just stared at the man silently. There was a moment of tense silence as the Preventer suddenly remembered just who Trowa was; with a low mutter, the man sank back into the crowd and tried to look unobtrusive.

“Then let’s roll.” A tall man wearing Sergeant’s stripes met Trowa’s eyes, drawing attention away from his brasher teammate. 

Trowa nodded sharply at the last speaker. “Here are your assignments. Lieutenant Crowley will be issuing you the maps for your colony and the replacement parts. We’re still six hours out from the nearest colony, so I would advise using some of that time to go over the repairs that will be needed. Once each team is on site and heading into the core, I expect regular updates. If you can’t reach me, you will be reporting directly to Captain Yuy. He is in charge of this mission, as well as overseeing the L1 teams.”

“Yes sir.” 

Everyone in the room took a last look at the battered colony shown on the view screen. 

“Be careful.” Trowa sighed, and nodded to dismiss the men. “I expect all of you to come back in one piece.” _God I miss you Duo. You said that before every mission after Yuy self-detonated._ Thoughts of Duo hurt. He hadn’t been able to reach him for several weeks. All calls got routed through to his voicemail at Preventers HQ, and Duo had apparently been out in the field almost continuously, as he hadn’t returned any of the messages Trowa had left. The one email he’d received had been brief, cryptic and completely lacking in any personal details. It had also been sent from Preventers HQ. _What is he doing, living there?_

“Hey, Frost— looks like you don’t need to worry about working on Christmas Eve.” One of the men jostled his companion as they headed out the door. “We aren’t even gonna reach our colony ‘til Christmas Day.”

“Asshole…”

When they were gone, Trowa stood staring at the colony on the viewscreen. “Merry Christmas, Duo.”

***

Lowell glanced up at the hesitant knock on the door, a little surprised to see Duo watching him uncertainly.

“Hey.” He nodded at his office mate’s empty chair. “Sit down. I didn’t figure you’d be up and around today. Zechs said you were still out when we met earlier to go over the case.”

“Yeah,” Duo shrugged. “Rough night.” Flushing a little, he moved over to sit gingerly in the chair. Lowell had a brief moment of thinking he looked like a wolf about to bolt away from a trap. “Anyway, I just wanted to say thanks. Again. I… last night didn’t exactly turn out the way I had figured.”

“No shit.” Lowell sat back, staring at the younger man thoughtfully. “But you look better than I expected.”

“Thanks. I think.” Duo shrugged. “I just got out of Sally’s clutches, though, so I must be doing better.”

“Yeah. I was pretty surprised she let you go last night—after everything that happened.”

Duo just nodded. “She’s making up for it now. I’m grounded for at least two days, and then I’m going to be stuck working with forensics under her direct supervision for a while. I think she’s trying to figure out how this… uh… works and all. Maybe deciding whether to believe us, or to lock us up in a room with really soft walls.”

“Lovely,” Lowell shook his head. “Grounded, huh?”

“Yeah. Mama Po strikes again. I’m confined to desk work only until she is convinced I won’t pass out. What about you?”

“I’m getting shipped out to L6 in a day or two, working Security for Relena Peacecraft at the inauguration of the new colony.” Lowell shrugged. “Merquise apparently threw a fit about them taking Dorothy at the moment.”

“Yeah.” There was an odd look on Duo’s face for a moment. “We’re stretched kind of thin in Purgatory, as you might have noticed. And with me restricted from field duty…”

“I can see that.” Lowell frowned at him, thinking over what he wanted to say. “You know, if you guys ever want backup again…” The minute the words were out of his mouth, he felt like an idiot. “I know I’m only a mere head-blind mortal, but…”

Duo looked almost stunned. “Are you serious?” The younger man sat back in the chair and just stared at him. “You actually _want_ to work with us again?”

“Sure,” Lowell shrugged, trying to look nonchalant. “Why is that so surprising?”

“We’re a bunch of freaks.” Duo’s voice was flat, and just a little bitter. “No one sane wants to work with us.”

“Sanity is highly overrated. I thought it was— interesting.” Shrugging a little, Lowell grinned. “And when I wasn’t freezing my ass off or getting it kicked by a bunch of psychos, it was a refreshing change of pace.”

“You didn’t get your ass kicked.” Duo grinned back, a little lopsidedly. “You were doing all right, from what I remember. And we were both still standing at the end. Well… you were anyway.”

“Yeah. That bit was a little freaky.” Sobering a little, he watched the younger man for a moment. “I don’t think you guys are freaks. My grandmother had the Sight. So while I can’t say I understand what it’s like for you, I am hardly going to get all upset about it. I do have a lot of questions though.”

“I’m sure you do…” Duo sighed. “I don’t know that we can give you all the answers you want... we're still making this up as we go too. But it’s nice that you aren’t gonna hold it against us.”

“If it works to get the job done and keep us from getting killed, I have no problem with how you do things.”

“Good to know.” Duo shrugged. “Guess I’d better get back. Zechs was heading back to the murder site to check in with… well… our other partners and talk to the witnesses. You planning to be around when he starts interrogating the bad guys? It should be amusing. Normally, once he starts mentioning stuff we shouldn’t possibly know, they fall apart and start confessing.”

“I don’t think I want to miss that.” Lowell shook his head. “Though I’m not sure I really want to know what motivated them to do something this sick.”

“Yeah.” Duo’s face scrunched up in distaste. “No shit. See you later then.” Standing up, he turned towards the door just in time to see Quatre Winner appear in the doorway. “Heya, Quat. When did you get back?”

“Hi Duo. And last night.” Quatre smiled warmly at Duo, then glanced at Lowell. His smile became a little more strained. “Lowell, good. I was about to ask Lady Une where I could find you. You’ve been assigned to Relena Peacecraft’s security detail again. We have a briefing in two hours.”

“I know,” Lowell sighed. “I’ll be there.”

Winner just nodded. “Fine. Merry Christmas, Duo. Got to run, we have to finish finalizing the setup before the briefing.”

“That’s cool. It was good seeing you again.”

“Yeah,” Quatre beamed at him, then vanished back out into the hall. “Take care.”

“Is he always that unobservant?” Lowell asked softly, as Duo sighed. “I’m starting to worry about having him as the head of the security on this detail.”

“What?”

“I said you looked better than I expected, not that you looked good, Duo. Or is this look so natural for you that your friends think it’s normal?”

“Quat’s just got a lot on his mind. Don’t let him fool you. He’s a brilliant strategist.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Lowell shook his head. _But that doesn’t mean I want to work under Winner. I think I’m much happier with you guys, in Purgatory._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Yes, this chapter is named after the Iron Butterfly song. (Yes, I am aware how much that dates me.) It just seemed to fit.   
> Words and Music By Doug Ingle  
> © 1968 (unp) Cotillion Music, Inc., Ten East Music & Itasca Music  
> © 1969 Cotillion Music, Inc., Ten East Music & Itasca Music
> 
> In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida, honey,  
> don't you know that I love you?  
> In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida, baby,  
> don't you know that I'll always be true?
> 
> Oh, won't you come with me  
> and take my hand?
> 
> Oh, won't you come with me  
> and walk this land?
> 
> Please take my hand!


	16. Monsters in the Closet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team finds out the truth behind the three monkeys.

Metal rang against metal as the shuttle docked on L2- V08895. Trowa listened to the familiar noises and tried not to think about actually having to don an environmental suit again. 

“Airlock is opening, sir.”

He glanced over at Lieutenant Crowley. “I can see that.”

“Um… yes sir,” The Lieutenant winced, and Trowa sighed. 

“Sorry. It’s been a long few days,” Trowa offered quietly. “How far are we from the inner ring seals?”

“We docked at the nearest free port, maybe two kilometers.” The agent winced again. “Did the rebels really sabotage the control rooms during the war?”

“Not the control rooms themselves.” Trowa hefted his gear over one shoulder. “Just all the exterior airlocks leading to them. The only way to reach any of the L2 control rooms now is from the inside, through the core.”

“But…” The two agents on his team hastily grabbed their own gear, starting after Trowa at a trot. “Why?”

_Why?_ Trowa stopped, turning to stare out the thick windows at the hangar bay. Despite the fact that only a third of the shuttle berths were filled, all around them was the normal activities of cargo ships arriving. Watching the bustle, it was hard to believe that anyone had ever conceived of Operation Meteor. The weight of memories he would rather have lost forever pressed against the insides of his eyelids, threatening to return the moment he let down his guard. 

“They were afraid someone might take over the control rooms.” Turning away, he headed for customs. “It would have really sucked if some psychopath had tried to drop a colony on the earth.” 

“What?” Lieutenant Hawes yelped. “But, that’s insane…”

“That was war.” Trowa glanced over his shoulder. “It’s also not why we’re here. Let’s go. I want to get this over with.” _Trowa Barton— rest in Hell, you son of a bitch. But thanks for the name._

One of the local Preventer agents waved them past the customs line. “Captain Barton! We’ve got a car waiting for you. Lady Une said you would need full environmental suits, they’re waiting at the inner ring seal for you. This way, please.”

“Thank you.” 

***

Lowell slipped into the observation room, not surprised to see Sally, Dorothy and Duo watching the interrogation through the one way glass. Duo glanced over his shoulder to wave distractedly, then turned back to the scene though the window.

“You’re late, man. Missing the show…”

“The briefing with Winner ran long,” Lowell shook his head. “You may be right about him being a brilliant strategist, but damn is he anal over the details.” Finding an empty chair, he dragged it over to the window and sat down to watch. 

The room on the other side of the window was small, bare and white, and furnished with nothing but an incredibly uncomfortable looking chair and a scratched table. Zechs was leaning over the table, hands braced as he glared down at the woman he was questioning. His back was to the window, but Lowell could read the tension and anger in his stance. He didn’t have to guess at Zechs’ expression; the outright terror in the woman’s face was enough of an indication.

“How long has he been at this?” 

“This is the second one. Most of them have not recovered enough to face questioning yet. But we have enough right now to hold them all in custody just on the grounds of attempted murder of Preventers’ agents, entrapment, and being caught at the scene of the crime.”

“I think we should just hold them all on the grounds of them being bugfuck nuts,” Dorothy growled. “This is unbelievable.”

“’Bugfuck nuts’ isn’t exactly a legal cause to hold someone,” Sally muttered. “And I wouldn’t throw a lot of stones with that one.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Dorothy shrugged. “We may be nuts, but we didn’t go around handcuffing good Samaritans to a chainlink fence and torturing them to death.”

“True,” Sally sighed. 

On the other side of the glass, Zechs straightened to his full height and glared down at his victim, who flinched back. Now that he’d taken a closer look, Lowell recognized her as the woman who’d screamed to lure him into the alley in the first place.

”Let’s go over this again, shall we?” Zechs sighed. ”Why exactly were you in the alley?”

”Fuck you.”

”Wrong answer.”

”I don’t have to talk to you. You’re one of them.”

”One of them?”

”The heroes, riding in on their white horses…”

”And that’s a reason for murder?”

”You fuck up. You fuck it all up. And you have to die, because you break the rules….”

”Why do you hate heroes?” Zechs murmured thoughtfully. ”Is it because we try to help others? Or is it because no one showed up to play Hero when you needed them to?”

”You shall see no evil… you shall hear no evil… you shall speak no evil. For that way lies temptation to act. You shall see no evil…” The woman’s eyes took on a fanatic’s gleam as she began chanting softly. Zechs threw up his hands and turned away in disgust.

“We won’t get anything more out of her,” Sally sighed, then glanced at Lowell. “That’s all the first one he questioned would say, over and over.”

“Brainwashed?” Lowell frowned, watching as the woman began rocking in rhythm with her words. 

“It’s a cult. What do you think?” Sally sighed. “But these are small fry anyway. The big fish— that one’s up next.”

“Oh?”

“Dr. Andrei Ustinov.” She spat the words out. “The so-called leader of this movement.”

“Great.” They watched as the woman was removed from the room. 

“So has forensics found anything else?” Duo asked quietly, though his eyes never left Zechs as the other man paced restlessly in the otherwise empty interrogation room. 

“Some. The analysis came back on that slime you guys were rolling in,” Sally grimaced. “It was mud… sort of. Apparently the area was saturated with blood from the victims. Most of it had dried onto the walls and pavement, which explains why no one outside the area had complained too much about the smell. Everyone assumed it was just from the trash getting dumped there. But with the recent rainfall… well…”

“Ugh,” Duo groaned. “That’s just disgusting.”

“That’s about what the forensics’ team had to say.” Sally shook her head. “They’re still trying to sort through all the crap on the other side of the fence as well. Apparently, the debris was what kept the blood from getting washed out into the harbor.”

“Can the blood be typed?” Lowell asked thoughtfully. “Enough to prove that that’s the site of the murders?”

“Not from the mud— it’s too mixed and there is too much contamination.”

“Dammit.” Dorothy moved to lean against the glass, her eyes following Zechs as he paced the room on the other side. “This is stupid. They can’t get off just because we can’t prove that they murdered a bunch of people there. And our word alone isn’t going to cut it.”

“I didn’t say they were getting off!” Sally snapped. “The presence of that much blood by itself is pretty damning. And I said we couldn’t type the mud. However, they have discovered several patches of dried blood that were sheltered from the rain. Those have been positively ID’d to the last four victims.” She sighed, and slumped back in her chair. “And from that… you guys were right so far. The fence was the murder site.”

“Told you,” Dorothy muttered under her breath. 

“Now, we just need a confession from at least one of these psychos, an eye witness that is willing to testify, or to find the murder weapons and enough evidence to link them to each murder.”

“That’s going to be really unpleasant.” Duo shook his head. “Maybe Zechs will have better luck with Ustinov.”

“Whether he does or not, we still have to find those murder weapons.”

”Dr. Ustinov.” They all turned towards the window, to see two guards manhandling the next suspect into the chair. He was smiling calmly as Zechs turned to watch him coldly. Lowell stiffened, recognizing the man as the one he and Duo had chased through the maze; the one that had taunted them from the center of the courtyard. 

”Preventer.” The doctor crossed his legs, looking for all the world as though they were in his own office, not an interrogation room. Zechs didn’t appear to be phased by the man’s nonchalance, as he leaned against the wall and crossed his arms. ”Milliardo Peacecraft, isn’t it?”

”I prefer the name Zechs Merquise.”

”I’m surprised they are letting you do this interrogation.”

”Oh?” Zechs raised one pale eyebrow curiously. ”Why would that be?”

”I would think that letting someone with a known personality disorder question suspects would be considered as tainting any sort of confession you might get from me.”

”Ah— but changing one’s name is hardly considered a personality disorder. I can assure you that I do not have multiple personalities, and my mental state is not the one at stake here.”

”Come now. You attempted to destroy the earth. Surely anything you think that I might have done pales next to that.”

“What a fucking scum-maggot,” Duo growled softly. “Zechs…”

”Perhaps,” Zechs shrugged. ”But that’s beside the point, and for others to decide, not you. So perhaps we should talk about last night instead.”

”I have nothing to say about last night.”

Zechs nodded. ”Fair enough. Then let’s talk about your wife, instead.”

”My… wife?” Dr. Ustinov blinked, looking off balance for the first time. 

“His wife?” Sally frowned. “Merquise, what the hell are you doing?”

”Meriel . She was very pretty. It must have been hard for you, when she was raped and murdered three years ago.”

”Meriel…” The doctors eyes closed for a moment. ”She’s nothing to do with this.”

”No?” Zechs straightened. ”How odd then, that you not only continued your psychiatric practice, but switched to counseling rape victims almost exclusively. We’ve done checks on the other suspects picked up last night. All of them were patients of yours, were they not?”

”Doctor-Patient confidentiality prevents me from answering that question.”

”It wasn’t really a question, Dr. Ustinov. We have identified all of the members of your little therapy group that were involved in the attempted murder of two Preventers agents last night. “

”And where were your agents three years ago? When Meriel was the victim?”

”Preventers did not exist three years ago, Doctor. As I’m sure you are aware. But someone did try to help Meriel, didn’t they? A Good Samaritan, dropping everything to rush to the rescue of a pretty woman?”

“Zechs, what the hell are you doing?” Sally stood up, but Dorothy caught her wrist.

“Sally, he knows what he’s doing…”

“But— where the hell did he find this information? It’s not in any of the reports. This line of questioning is completely out of…”

“Sally, the doctor hasn’t denied any of it either,” Duo sighed. “Trust us, trust him. He has no intention of letting this nut off on a technicality. You wanted a confession. I think you’re about to get one.”

”He was a fool!” Any semblance of calm was lost as the Doctor surged out of his chair. Zechs stepped back to keep the table between them, waving off the two guards as they started to open the door. ”Blundering in—he had no right!”

”He was trying to save her life.”

”He got her killed!” Ustinov began pacing, the chains linking his manacled hands jingling. ”She died, and he lived— the fool. They might not have killed her, they would have let her go. But he startled them. And my Meriel—beautiful Meriel.” the doctor turned on Zechs again. ”She took a bullet to the stomach, and bled to death slowly.”

”He lived, yes,” Zechs said quietly. ”For two weeks, he lived with the guilt that he couldn’t save her. And then you found him, in the alley where she died. Didn’t you?”

”He was a fool. He had to die. If he hadn’t seen, if he hadn’t heard her screams for help…”

”If he hadn’t yelled and startled them?” Zechs finished, his voice like ice. ”You underwent counseling, and were allowed to continue your practice after you had convinced everyone you were healed; that helping others was your penance. But you weren’t helping them, were you? Instead, you were twisting their grief, and their guilt, and their anger that no one stepped into to save them, or their wives, or their daughters. Or their sons. And you convinced them that it was those heroes, the good Samaritans, those were the ones who had to pay. Not the animals who committed the rapes.”

”I was helping them heal!”

”How was committing twenty four murders helping anyone heal?” 

Dr Ustinov slumped back into his chair, sobbing into his hands. ”Meriel…”

”Well, Doctor?” Zechs leaned over the table, his hands braced. Lowell had the feeling it was more to keep him from hitting the doctor than for balance.

”Don’t you see? It was for her. They had to pay. You all have to pay for taking her away from me…”

“Now see, that’s why I refuse to undergo counseling,” Duo muttered under his breath. “I think I can be crazy just fine on my own.”

“I…my God…” Sally swayed as all the blood rushed from her face. “A doctor— using his patients…” Pulling away from Dorothy, she headed quickly for the door, one hand cupped over her mouth. 

Dorothy swore softly and followed her out of the room.

“I think reality just hit our good doctor,” Duo sighed, rubbing one hand across his eyes wearily. “It’s one thing to know that the members of that cult were his patients. It’s quite another to hear him refer to that nightmare as healing.”

“Yeah,” Lowell sighed; watching quietly as Zechs moved back to lean against the wall, his shoulders sagging wearily. The doctor was talking now, rambling softly as he tried to justify becoming a mass murderer. They let the monitoring equipment record it, no longer wanting to know what could drive a man over the edge of sanity. 

***

Duo looked up as Zechs slumped heavily against the door, his pale face strained. 

“Zechs? You okay, man?” Moving over to his partner, Duo put a hand on his shoulder. Zechs shivered under his fingers, as he tugged him away from the door. “Come on, talk to me.”

“Duo…” The word was more of a moan than anything else. Before Duo knew quite what was happening, he had been pulled fully into the taller man’s arms and was being held tightly enough to set all of his bruises to throbbing life.

“Hey, it’s okay. You did good in there.”

“I almost… that monster would have…”

“I’m here. I’m fine.” Duo wormed free with difficulty; then half dragged his partner across the office to the couch. “You really think I would have let some bunch of freaks tie me to a fence?”

“You’re not superhuman.” Zechs turned his head to look at him. “And if they’d gotten you against that fence...”

“But they didn’t. It’s over. We got them. And they won’t do this to anyone else.”

“Where’s Doro?”

“She took Sally home. Po kind of lost it there, watching that creep.”

“I nearly lost it there, talking to him.” Zechs shuddered again, then dragged Duo bodily into his arms again. Resigning himself to being a teddy bear for the next few hours, Duo forced himself to relax against the older man’s chest.

“But you didn’t. Though I think all of us are gonna have nightmares from this one.” Resting his head against Zechs’ shoulder, Duo let his fingers tangle in fine blond hair and watched the lights twinkle on the tiny Christmas tree they had set up in the center of the conference table.

“Yeah…” 

There was silence then; both of them lost in thought as they waited for Dorothy to return. _The nightmares can’t last forever though, can they?_


	17. Hall of Mirrors

“Captain Barton? Sir?”

Trowa barely acknowledged the lieutenant’s voice as he crouched down to inspect the frost coating the front panel of the module in front of him. Ice crystals glittered in the light of his hand lamp as he ran it over the panel. _What was that?_ Leaning closer, he studied the faint scuff marks that had caught his attention. _Grooves in the frost?_

“Yes?”

“Team three is checking in. They have arrived on L2- V08771. Proceeding into the core, sir.”

“Good.” He hesitated, not sure if it was simply paranoia telling him that something was wrong, or the memory of making similar marks through frost while attempting repairs to Heavyarms in Antarctica. Finally deciding to error on the part of paranoia, just in case, he glanced up at Lieutenant Hawes. “Tell them to look for signs of forced entry into the module plates.”

“Sir?” 

“The ice on this plate is thinner than on the rest of the panels, and it’s scuffed. Like someone has taken the plate off recently. Warn the rest of the teams.”

“Yes sir.” 

Turning back to his work, he began to remove the panel cautiously. The bolts were tight, the ice making it awkward to work in heavy gloves. Gritting his teeth, he forced himself to concentrate on his work, and not the frost beginning to coat the faceplate of his suit.

“You really think this was sabotage?” Crowley asked, moving around Trowa’s kneeling body to hold his own wrist light steady. 

“I don’t know yet,” Trowa shrugged. “But it’s a possibility.”

“But… why would anyone sabotage the temperature controls of a colony?” Hawes asked plaintively. Trowa couldn’t help rolling his eyes at the naïve tone in the other man’s voice. _Lord, spare us from innocents and fools_ — Forcing his thoughts back to the task at hand, he only shrugged in answer. 

“Crowley, give me a hand. Hold this steady.” The other man took the weight of the panel as Trowa forced the last bolt free. “Okay, move it out slowly.”

They lifted the panel away from the console. Trowa let out a slow breath when nothing further happened. _Good— it wasn’t trapped._ Crouching in front of the open module, he moved the hand lamp closer to take a look at the boards inside. As he had expected, two of the circuit boards were blackened. Maybe he wasn’t just being paranoid.

Finishing the repairs as quickly as he could, he tried to ignore the uneasy feeling that they were running out of time. _Something’s coming,_ he thought grimly. This has been far too easy. Well, other than the discovery of malfunctioning heat packs on a majority of the colony’s environmental suits; that had delayed their trip into the core for nearly six hours. He wondered suddenly if that had any connection to the sabotaged boards inside the main console.

“Sir!”

“What?” The knot of unease tightened into dread in his stomach. “Hawes?”

“Sir, Captain Yuy for you sir.”

Trowa nodded and flipped his communicator from the closed channel he was on with his team to the private channel to Heero.

“Heero?”

/”How are your repairs going?”/

“Finally finished here.” Trowa stood up, leaving Crowley and Hawes to replace the module cover. “We’ll be heading back out of the core in about ten minutes. What’s up?”

/”The last L1 team is nearly finished.”/ Heero hesitated. /”My team is currently en-route to the L2 Cluster.”/

“I think we can handle this on our own, Heero.” He frowned, more than a little pissed off that Heero didn’t trust them to take care of L2; despite the feeling that something was coming, which only increased his uneasiness.

/”I thought as much,”/ Heero sighed. /”If nothing else, I’ll pick you up and we can go on to L6 from there. Unless you would _rather_ spend Christmas Day with someone else?”/

“Oh.” Trowa blinked, feeling like an idiot. “I’d like that, actually. Sorry—just kind of jumpy today.”

/”Me too. I’ll see you in a few hours then.”/ There was a pause, before his partner spoke again, almost in a whisper. /”Love you.”/

“Love you too. But you’d better take me someplace nice for dinner, since you didn’t take me to Earth.”

/”I promise. Yuy out.”/

Trowa felt some of his uneasiness fade, faced with the prospect of actually getting to spend an evening with his lover. _Whatever is coming— we’ll face it together._

“Alright, let’s head back to the ring.” He nodded to his two teammates. It was with a feeling of relief that the door to the control room closed behind them, and they started the long trek back through the maze of halls towards the colony ring.

***

Relena Peacecraft smiled as Quatre Winner handed her a glass of champagne. Lowell watched their reflections in the window out onto the runway, and wondered why he felt like he was standing on the other side of the glass.

“What is this for?”

“It’s Christmas Morning. We should celebrate the fact that war ended one year ago.”

“Ah.” She raised her glass to tap against his. “Merry Christmas, then.” 

Chang glanced over at them with a faint grin. “He’s just happy Maxwell isn’t here to spike his grape juice with something alcoholic.”

“And what about you? Are you not going to celebrate?” 

“He’s flying the first leg,” Quatre Winner smiled at his partner. “I offered him grape juice as well.”

“If I’m going to celebrate, I might as well do it right. But not when I’m flying.” Chang shrugged. “Perhaps later.”

“Robert, join us?”

“No thank you, Senator.” He shrugged a little apologetically, though he kept his eyes locked on the approaching shuttle as it was towed towards the gate, rather than looking at his companions. 

“Is something the matter?”

“No.” He finally glanced back at her, wondering if she saw the exhaustion on his face. “It— has just been a rough few days. I’m a little too tired to celebrate.”

“You should have said something earlier,” Relena said quietly. “I do appreciate you giving up your Christmas day to accompany me— Especially if you’ve just come off a case.”

“I’m fine,” He said with a shrug. “We still have a two day flight before we reach L6. I’m sure I’ll be very rested by the time we reach the colony.”

“Relena…” 

She started in surprise at the sound of her brother’s voice behind her, turning quickly to see him standing in the doorway. “Milliardo? What on earth are you doing here this early?” 

“I came to wish you a Merry Christmas,” he said smoothly, though Robert could see the same strain on the blond’s face that he felt on his own. 

“Thank you.” She moved to hug him warmly. “Merry Christmas. Would you like some Champagne? We’re celebrating a year of peace.”

“Thanks, but no.” He smiled at her, but the smile didn’t reach the haunted blue eyes. A moment later, Zechs had pulled away from her to look straight at him. “Lowell.”

“Zechs.”

“I was hoping to catch you before the shuttle left.” 

“Is everything alright?” He felt a sudden flash of panic, but the other man quickly shook his head. 

“Everything is— the same. I need your signature though.” Zechs excused himself from his sister, crossing the room to where Lowell stood at the window. “And Sally sent these for you.” He handed a small bottle to him. “Just in case.”

Lowell took them, and then glanced at the label. He blinked, not sure why Sally would have sent Zechs to give him mild sedatives. Unless…“She had trouble sleeping last night?”

“Dorothy poured half a fifth of scotch down her throat.” Zechs shrugged. This time the smile was more than slightly cynical, and Lowell realized belatedly that both of them had automatically lowered their voices. “That seemed to work.”

“Yeah,” Lowell sighed. “I thought about trying that. But— well—I probably would have missed the shuttle.” He glanced up at the other man. “Did you even try to sleep?”

“Not for long.” Zechs shivered. “Lowell—Duo said you were interested in a possible transfer to Purgatory. Are you sure? We will probably have a lot of cases this bad.”

“I am.” Lowell met Zechs’ eyes evenly. “If you all will have me.”

“Sign this, and I’ll talk to Une.” Zechs held out a transfer request. Somehow, he wasn’t surprised to see it had been filled out already.

Lowell signed it quickly, before he could start second-guessing his decision. He could see the puzzled look Relena was giving them over Zechs’ shoulder. He didn’t even bother to look at either Winner or Chang.

“Thanks.” He glanced up at Zechs as he handed the form back. 

“Thank you— For watching his back. And hers, before.” Zechs gave him a last measuring stare before he turned away. “And for watching over Relena.”

“It’s my job.”

“Yes, but we asked you to go above and beyond, without giving you a lot of info.” Zechs hesitated, then glanced back at him over one shoulder. “Be careful, Lowell. Watch your back.”

Lowell stared at him for a moment, wondering if there was something more to the warning than he knew about. _No,_ he reminded himself, _that’s what Duo always said in the field._ Shrugging it off as just the normal parting ritual for Purgatory, he smiled crookedly.

“I will.” 

“Good.” Zechs nodded once then moved back to hug his sister a last time. “Have a good trip, Relena.”

“Thank you.” She was still looking bewildered as the tall blond left again. Conscious of the three sets of eyes staring at him, Lowell shoved the pill bottle in his pocket and turned back to stare out the window again.


	18. The Ghosts of Christmas

Zechs relaxed a little as he stepped through the door to Purgatory. Dorothy looked up from Epyon, grinning crookedly at him. 

“How’s Relena?”

“Fine. On her way to L6.”

“And Lowell?” 

“I suspect it’s going to be a long trip for him,” Zechs said grimly. “I don’t think he gets along well with either Winner or Chang.”

“Well, no. That’s probably my fault.” She sighed. “But he’s also very diplomatic. He won’t let his personal feelings toward them get in the way of protecting your sister.”

“I know. I trusted him with Duo’s life— I can trust him with Relena’s.”

“I thought you trusted me with my own life,” Duo muttered as he stepped out of the back room and headed for the coffeemaker. “I can’t believe we’re all up this early on Christmas morning.”

“And that is unusual how?”

“Mmm. True.” Taking his cup of coffee, Duo flopped onto the couch in his usual sprawl. “Uh, speaking of which, we may need to get a new air-mattress soon.”

“Oh?” Zechs frowned. “Is it leaking?”

“Not—exactly.” Duo sighed, then flushed a little. “But at the rate we’re all having nightmares, I’m gonna have to start sleeping on the couch soon.”

“I’m sorry, Duo.” Dorothy threw him a stricken look. 

“Not like you asked for them. But those are some seriously fucked up dreams.” He shook his head. “Just thought I’d mention it, so that you guys didn’t think…well… that I don’t want to sleep with you or anything.”

“We understand, Duo.” Zechs moved around the table to one of the file cabinets. “We’ll figure something out. But in the meantime, it’s Christmas. And Purgatory is taking the morning off.”

“Awesome.” Duo closed his eyes, only to open them again when something dropped onto his lap. “What’s this?”

“A Christmas present.” 

“Oh.” Duo regarded the plain silver package for a moment, then winced. “I hadn’t had a chance to get you guys anything.”

“I didn’t expect you to have,” Zechs shrugged. “You came back alive from that last case. That’s present enough right there.”

“Yeah, well, thank Lowell for that one.” Duo looked embarrassed. 

“I already did.” Zechs grinned at him, and slid a present across the table to Dorothy. When he looked up again, it was to see Solo sprawled out in his usual place in the center of the conference table. The miniature tree was embedded in one knee, and the ghost was poking at the tiny lights with a transparent finger. To his relief, Treize was sitting on one of the chairs at the table, while Sister Helen stood behind Dorothy’s chair. “It’s about time you guys showed up.”

“Huh? Oh. Right. Everyone’s here?” Duo glanced around curiously. 

“Yes.” Zechs smiled, and pulled a bag out of the drawer where he’d stashed Duo and Dorothy’s presents.

“You got them presents?” Dorothy asked, raising one eyebrow curiously as he poured the contents of the bag into an untidy pile on the table. “Shit. I didn’t even think of that. I don’t even have a present for you guys.”

‘You got us gifts?’ Treize asked at almost the same moment. ‘That’s nice, but I don’t think we’ll be able to unwrap them, much less use them.’

“They aren’t exactly for you— they’re more for us.” Zechs sighed. “And I’ll unwrap them for you.”

‘Oh, so we were merely excuses so you could buy more gifts for yourself.’ Treize rolled his eyes.

“Not exactly,” Zechs sighed. “And they aren’t all for you guys.” He separated out four flat packages from the pile. Tossing one to Dorothy, he dropped a second onto Duo’s lap and placed the tiny tree on the third. The fourth he kept for himself. “These are for the living members of Purgatory. Though Lowell will have to get his when he gets back.”

“He’s transferring in permanently?” Dorothy asked curiously, picking up the last present and squeezing it thoughtfully. 

“I still have to talk to Une, but he signed the transfer request this morning.” 

“Huh,” Duo muttered. “That should be interesting. Hope he doesn’t mind sleeping on the couch though.”

“I think he’ll probably be content with just using the office.” Zechs sighed. “Assuming he wants to move down here. Une will probably want his desk space though, and it would be easier not to have to run up and down the stairs all the time.”

“He’s going to have to be content with just the office,” Dorothy muttered. “He’s a nice guy, and all, but I’m sticking with you two.”

“That’s good to know.” Duo grinned at her, then ducked the pen she threw at him. “Hope he doesn’t freak out when he realizes we don’t leave the office at night though.”

“He may have already figured that one out.” Dorothy rolled her eyes at Duo. “Considering most of our think tank sessions were at night.”

“Right. You can open those, if you want.” Zechs ignored their antics as he sorted out the remaining four gifts in the pile. “I’ll open these for the life-impaired members of Purgatory.”

To his surprise, Duo and Dorothy both stopped tearing at the paper on the gifts to look at him expectantly. Suddenly self-conscious, he hesitated.

“No— I really want to see what you consider a gift for a ghost.” Duo leaned forward. “That way I know what to get next year.” He shrugged. “We never even knew about Christmas when we were on the streets. This will be Solo’s first present ever.”

That fact hadn’t even occurred to Zechs, and he turned worried eyes towards Solo. The ghost had curled up in the center of the table, though he was watching Zechs warily from beneath a tangle of hair and limbs. 

“In that case, I’ll open Solo’s first.” Zechs smiled at the ghost gently. “It’s actually— sort of a present for both of you.”

“Oh?” Duo blinked, and Solo looked a little disappointed, though he hid it by looking bored with the whole proceeding. “Um—okay.”

Zechs unwrapped a yellow plate, hand painted with the image of a young man playing the flute to a rapt crowd of rats. “It’s the Pied Piper.” Seeing equally blank looks on both Duo’s and Solo’s face, he continued the explanation. “He played music to lead all the rats out of a town. When the villagers refused to pay him, he came back. And that time he took all the children.”

“Huh,” Duo muttered, leaning forward to look at the plate more closely before Zechs pushed it across the table towards Solo. “Why’s it for both of us though?”

“Because if I put the plate out, then you know Solo’s in the room—and more or less where he is. I figured it would make it easier if you wanted to talk directly to him.”

“Oh.” Duo sat silently for a moment, then smiled slowly. “Cool. Wait. He’s sitting _on_ the table?” 

Zechs nodded, and then looked back at Solo. The kid was trying to look tough, but after a moment he uncurled enough to run a finger over the painted design on the plate. _‘Merry Christmas, Solo.’_

Grey eyes darted up to meet his, before the younger man ducked his head again and went back to studying the gift. Out of the corner of his eye, Zechs saw Treize relax and sit back with a sigh. Sister Helen moved around to speak softly to Solo, who shyly moved a little so that she could see the plate. 

“The next is for Sister Helen,” Zechs said quietly, pushing a blue and white plate with a stylized image of Notre Dame Cathedral across the table until it rested next to Solo’s.

‘It’s lovely.’ She looked almost embarrassed, but pleased at the same time. ‘Thank you.’

“Treize.” That plate held an image of a single rose. “And Epyon.” He pushed the fourth plate towards Dorothy. Epyon’s plate was plain black, with only a burst of color in the center that matched the paua shell on Dorothy’s bracelet. “Not that we can’t normally tell where Epyon is, but it didn’t feel right to leave him out.”

“Thank you,” Dorothy whispered, staring down at the plate a little blankly.

“So open your presents,” Zechs finally prompted. Duo looked down at the gift in his lap, and finally pulled off the paper to reveal a black T-shirt bearing the word Purgatory in gray letters on the front. Turning it over revealed the familiar words: Abandon Hope all Ye who Enter.

“Cute.” Duo grinned at him, then looked over to see Dorothy holding up a matching shirt. “One for each of us.”

“It seemed appropriate.” Zechs grinned back at him. “So open the first one, already.” He watched quietly as Duo picked up the first present he’d given him and tore the paper off. A pair of leather, fingerless biker gloves dropped into Duo’s lap. 

“Oh.” Duo picked them up in surprise. “You think that will work?”

“It should. You’ll still be able to touch things when you need to, but it will also give you a shielded way to grab onto something if necessary. They’re lined with silk, which is supposed to— provide psychic insulation, as it were.”

“Huh. Who’d you ask for that information?” Duo threw him a quick glance as he pulled the gloves on. 

“Lowell, of all people. Seeing as he grew up around someone with the Sight, as he called it, I figured he was a good source for information. Or at least knew who to ask.”

“He must not have thought you were too crazy then, since he still signed the papers to transfer into Purgatory.” Duo glanced up mischievously. “Or did you ask him after he signed?”

“Before.” Zechs shook his head, then turned to Dorothy. She was holding a second T-shirt in her hands. When she caught him looking, she made a face at him. 

“Very funny.” 

“What’s it say?” Duo moved off the couch to lean on the table near Zechs.

“Don’t Make Me Call Out My Flying Monkeys.” She turned the shirt around to show them the blood red letters. “Thanks Zechs. I take it this is a subtle hint to stop borrowing clothes from you guys?”

“You needed more T-shirts,” Zechs grinned. “At least for when we’re staying here.” He watched in fascination as both Duo and Dorothy looked at him; it was obvious exactly when the true meaning behind his words hit them, since both of them blushed in unison.

“You know, I think this is going to be a lot of fun.”

“Pervert,” Duo grumbled. Dorothy settled for throwing a ball of wrapping paper at his head.

“Merry Christmas, guys.” They sat in silence for a few moments, savoring what all of them knew was only the last of the calm before the storm hit.

***

Cryswell scowled as the emergency lights flickered for the eighth time, threatening to leave them with nothing but the flashlights strapped to their suits. 

“Damn but it’s creepy as hell down here,” Frost echoed his thoughts as the team moved farther down the debris-strewn corridors. “How the hell can anyone live on this tin can?”

“They can’t afford to leave,” Cryswell snapped. “Look sharp, men. Captain Barton was right to insist on us wearing suits down here. Don’t hole them.”

“Yeah…” Ivanovich ran his wristlight over the ice crystals coating the wall. “Hull security is probably okay, but you’d freeze to death.”

“Thanks for the comfort and encouragement,” Frost growled. “I feel so much happier about drawing this shit duty.”

“Frost!” 

“Yeah, yeah. Sorry Sarge.” The man waved a hand at the mess around them. “But seriously, there are entire sections of this colony that decompressed during the war, and no one ever fixed them. That’s just— nasty.”

“That’s why we’re wearing suits,” Cryswell answered. “We can’t be sure that there’s still an environment in the control room.”

“How much farther?” 

“Aw… does Ivan got to pee?”

“No, I’m just tired of listening to you whine.” Ivanovich flipped off his teammate. “Sarge?”

“Shouldn’t be much farther,” Cryswell sighed. “We’d be there already if Frost could read a map.”

“Hey— sue me. The map didn’t show a fucking three way split in the hallway, now did it?”

“Just shut up and keep walking, Frost,” Cryswell snapped. “That’s an order.”


	19. Labyrinth

Heero glanced up as Trowa emerged from the bathroom. Wet hair had been slicked back from his lover’s face, revealing both of his dark green eyes. 

“So— where are you taking me for dinner?” Trowa asked as he dropped the towel providing his sole covering on the floor, and reached for the jeans he’d left on the bed.

“Unfortunately, there doesn’t seem to be a demand for five star dining on any of the L2 colonies,” Heero shrugged, though he didn’t move his eyes from Trowa’s body as his lover dressed. “But one of the local Preventers recommended a steakhouse a few blocks from here.”

“That sounds good,” Trowa smiled slowly. “Right now, I’m hungry enough to eat Chang.”

“I wouldn’t advise it,” Heero glared at him in mock anger. “Quatre might get a little hostile— and so would I.”

“Hmm…” The rest of Trowa’s response was cut off by the buzz of the communicator that Heero had left on the desk. Frowning, he moved over to pick it up.

“Yuy.”

/”Captain Yuy. Sorry to bother you sir, but we’re getting reports from L2-V08997.”/

“And?” He met Trowa’s eyes, seeing his growing unease mirrored there. 

/”The colony is experiencing massive power fluctuations, sir.”/

“Which team is on that colony?”

/”Team four sir.”/

“Have they reported in?”

/”No sir.”/

“Keep trying to contact them. What is the status in the colony ring there?”

/”Rioting is starting to break out, sir.”/

“Damn.” Heero closed his eyes for a moment, even as Trowa hastily stripped off the jeans he’d just put on and grabbed his last spare uniform out of the closet. “Have my shuttle prepped. We’re on our way. ETA at the dock, 20 minutes.”

/”Yes sir!”/

“Trowa…” He turned to his lover with a pained sigh. “I’m sorry.”

“You owe me dinner in Paris when this is all over with,” Trowa growled as he picked up his jacket. “And Une is going to owe us a hell of a long vacation.”

***

Dorothy hissed, spilling coffee across her wrist as Epyon pulsed unexpectedly in her palm. _Dammit!_ Grabbing up the report she’d been reading before it could soak up the coffee, she cleared away the mess and started blotting it up quickly with napkins.

“What?” She asked impatiently. When Epyon merely pulsed again, she reached out to touch the laptop that Epyon was currently resting in. She could feel the odd tingle in her palm as the program flowed back and forth across the interface.

**Danger.** Epyon sounded uncertain, pulsing again in something she would have called distress in a human.

“Where?” She frowned uneasily. “No one’s out in the field right now—except Lowell. Is he in danger?”

**Not Lowell. Far away** There was a brief pause, before Epyon began resorting to pictures again. **Images of rioting… men in body armor trying to control angry, frightened crowds… and then images of a long hallway, the walls bowed from an explosion.** She recognized the last image from her nightmare with a sense of growing horror. Dragging her cell phone out of her pocket, she hastily hit the speed dial for Zechs’ phone.

/“Merquise.”/

“Zechs, Epyon’s nightmare—I think it’s happening now.”

/“Doro? What is—oh hell. Where?”/

“I don’t know. Is there currently rioting on any of the colonies?”

/“We’ll find out. Where’s Duo?”/ 

“I think he’s in the clinic with Sally.”

/”I’ll call him, then meet you in Une’s office. I was on my way there anyway.”/ 

Hanging up the phone, she stuffed Epyon into its case and ran for the door.

_Shit—Une._ She hesitated for a moment, thinking of the Commander. _How the hell are we going to explain this to Lady Une?_

***

Zechs knocked hastily on Une’s door, opening it almost before she had a chance to answer the knock. She looked up from her computer in surprise as he caught the doorframe to steady himself.

“Une…” 

“Zechs? What’s wrong?”

“I need to know— has new rioting broken out on the colonies?”

Her eyebrows raised as she stared at him. “How did you…?”

“Has it?”

“Yes,” Une muttered, frowning. “On one of the colonies in the L2 cluster. There were also stirrings on L1 main, but Yuy’s team managed to stop those before it turned into a riot, before heading for L2.”

“Yuy was on L1?” Dorothy asked breathlessly, joining Zechs in the doorway. A moment later, Duo and Sally appeared in her wake. “How did he know?”

“They found a possible cause for the riots. Apparently one of the temperature controls for the colonies is subject to failing, and has given out on each of the colonies where the riots started. We’ve been sending teams in to check the control rooms of all the colonies and replace the parts if necessary.”

“Fucking _hell,_ ” Dorothy gasped. “The control rooms. If there’s an explosion there, it could knock the entire colony out of orbit.”

“What are you talking about? Explosion?”

“Call your teams, Une.” Zechs threw her a pained look. “You have to trust us on this one. Please.”

Lady Une stared at them grimly for a long minute, before reaching for the communications console. “Yuy, report.” 

Zechs moved around the desk to look at the monitor, while Dorothy dropped into one of the chairs in front of Une’s desk and surreptitiously rested her left hand on the back of Une’s computer.

/”Commander?”/ Yuy appeared on the console, dressed in riot gear but with the helmet off. 

“Have all of your teams reported in?”

/“All but the team on L2-V08997.”/ He frowned. /“Communications with them have been spotty since they headed into the colony core. Barton and I will be docking at that colony in less than ten minutes. The other L2 teams are on the way as well.”/

“Is that where the riots are?” Zechs asked grimly. 

/“Yes. Power seems to be fluctuating there, and the lights keep turning off.”/

Sally frowned. “Looks like more than just the temperature control has failed then.”

“You think it’s already happened?” Duo asked grimly. 

“It’s possible.” Dorothy bit her lip, as everyone turned to look at her. 

“I don’t know—” Zechs frowned. “Yuy, try to call your team again. If they haven’t already gone in— tell them not to open the door to the Control Room.”

/“Merquise? Commandeer Une, I don’t…”/

“Just do it Yuy,” Sally snapped. 

Une stared at her in shock, then scowled at Zechs. “But there had better be a damned good reason for this, Zechs.”

“There is…” he muttered, hoping he could think of an explanation that she would accept.

On screen, Yuy turned away and spoke quietly to someone. They could hear an unfamiliar voice hailing the missing Preventers team.

“Which colony did you say?” Duo frowned at Une.

“L2-V08997. What does that…?”

“I’ll call Howard. The sweepers know those colonies inside and out. Hell, they’re the ones who have practically kept them running for the last fifty years. He’ll know if there is another way into that control room.” Duo shook his head. “Since I’m assuming your team didn’t try to go in through the outside hatches, but were heading down inside the core.”

“No—we knew those were sealed.”

He nodded and pulled out a small com unit.

“Maxwell— this situation is extremely sensitive. I don’t know that I like the idea of bringing in…”

“Commander, if that control room blows and takes out the main drives, and the colony is knocked out of orbit— you’ll need to call every ship in space to try and evacuate that ring. There aren’t enough working escape pods on any of the L2 colonies to take a fraction of the population. And the majority of the population doesn’t have a clue how to reach them anyway.” Duo’s eyes were haunted. Ignoring her expression, he punched in Howard’s number as he moved out of the office.

“We don’t even know for sure that there will be an explosion. Or is this another of your anonymous tips?” 

“Is that team already dead?” Sally asked faintly. “Is that how you knew?”

“No. I—don’t know if they’re dead or not.” Zechs winced. “I don’t even know who is on that team.” He looked down at the monitor, meeting the cold blue eyes staring back. 

/”Commander Une… we’ve begun docking maneuvers. I have fifteen Preventers on this shuttle, and another fifty on this colony—not including the three that are missing. There are currently two quadrants of this ring in complete darkness and the colonists are panicking. What are your orders?”/

Lady Une rubbed her forehead. “Do whatever you have to do, to restore order and prepare for possible evacuation of the colonists. Keep trying to reach that team, but don’t send anyone else into the core until we find another way in. Keep me updated.”

/”Ma’am.”/ Yuy’s face vanished from the screen. 

Zechs moved around to put a hand on Dorothy’s shoulder, feeling her tremble, even as Une turned the full force of her glare on him. “Okay. Someone explain what the hell is going on here.”

“We don’t have time to explain,” Zechs said hoarsely. “You have to trust us. I can’t explain how, but we knew something was going to happen. An explosion. There was just no way to know where or when. And if we don’t get those people off that colony, a lot of them are going to die.”

“You just know this.” Her eyes narrowed. “It just came to you, out of the blue? I need an explanation, Zechs. If you expect me to divert every ship anywhere near the L2 cluster to evacuate an entire colony, I need more than just your word that you had a feeling that something was going to happen. If you’re wrong…” She shook her head. ”I can’t trust a hunch on this one, Zechs.”

“Dorothy— what didn’t you tell me the other night?” Sally spoke up, her voice grim. “I seriously doubt that Duo just happened to touch something that told you there was going to be an explosion. And he hasn’t been off planet in six months. But if you don’t know the team is dead, then obviously you didn’t get the information from Zechs. So?”

“Shit.” Dorothy winced. “I—saw it.”

“What?”

“I have been having nightmares. I saw this happening.”

“Nightmares.” Sally sat back. “So now you’re telling me you’re clairvoyant?”

“Is that any harder to believe than what I told you two nights ago?” Dorothy whispered. 

“Nightmares?” Zechs looked up to see Une pale. “What kind of nightmares?”

“I saw—a hallway—and an explosion. People dead in space. If I’d known where or when before this, don’t you think I would have tried to stop it sooner?” 

Une looked stunned, and her eyes met Sally’s. “That was what I dreamt too. But how did you know that?”

“Epyon.” The single word silenced the room. Dorothy took a deep breath, and Zechs tightened his fingers on her shoulder in silent support. “It saw probabilities. The future. And at the end of the war—I was interfaced with it.”

“And you projected the dreams to me?”

“No. Epyon did,” Zechs said quietly. “According to Treize, you used the system once. That may be to be all it takes to form the link. I suspect that the longer it was used, the more extreme the talent, since most of us affected used it extensively. Duo is the exception to that, but he had a degree of psychometry already.”

“So it wasn’t just chance that the three of you are now— telepaths or whatever.”

“None of us are telepaths— though I guess Dorothy and I come close to it,” Zechs sighed. “The short version, which is all we have time for now, is that using either the Epyon or Zero system can alter the user. So far it’s been different in every case. Treize was the only true clairvoyant, though it doesn’t seem to be working for him now. I am a medium, Duo has psychometry, Quatre Winner is an empath, Dorothy…” He hesitated. “I don’t know what to classify Dorothy as.” He looked at Une. “I also don’t know what it did to Yuy.”

“Oh fuck.” They looked up to meet Duo’s eyes as he reappeared in the room. “I just remembered. Trowa—and Chang. They both used Zero too, though not Epyon. And only once, for each.”

“If they didn’t already have a latent talent, it may not have done anything to them. Zero was the lesser of the two systems.”

“It gave Trowa his memories back,” Duo frowned. “I don’t think it affected Chang at all though.”

“I— when I used Epyon— I saw only two futures,” Une sighed. “Trying to follow both of them was the cause of much of my…” She sighed. “And none of that matters now. If I accept that you— that this is true, that still doesn’t help us save that Colony.”

“No, but the sweepers will.” Duo waved his com unit. “Howard needs Yuy’s com channel. He figured that would save time if he talks to him directly. All of the sweeper ships in the L2 quadrant are already heading for that colony.”

“I thought Howard was in Jamaica again.” Dorothy raised her head. 

“Apparently not. He said something about giving an old friend a ride home.”

Zechs smiled. “Good. Did he know another way into the core?”

“Not an easy or a fast one. But it may not matter. Something has happened, whether it’s the explosion we’re afraid of or not, and the colony is already losing rotation.”

Sally frowned. “What does that mean?”

“It means that in less than twelve hours, they’re going to be evacuating that colony in zero-g.”

***

/”Quatre! I need you in here.”/ Chang’s voice crackled over the intercom, interrupting Relena’s discussion of politics with Quatre. She looked up, not sure why the tone of his voice sent cold chills down her back. It wasn’t panic— quite. She didn’t know how to describe it. Quatre didn’t even bother to excuse himself from their conversation, just stood and ran down the aisle towards the shuttle’s cockpit. 

Turning her head, she saw Lowell’s eyes meeting hers in concern. “Robert?”

“Stay here,” He sighed, standing up. “Stay in your seat and buckle up. Just in case.”

“No.” She stood up as well, following him down the aisle towards the cockpit. He didn’t bother to argue; though when they reached the last row of seats, he turned and pushed her down into the nearest one. 

“Sit. Please.” He turned to the door, only to find Quatre standing in the doorway staring at both of them in shocked silence. 

“Quatre?” Relena reached out to him, worried by the odd expression on his face. “What’s wrong?”

“We— We are diverting course to L2-V08997. It’s—only three hours out of our way on our present course.”

“Why?” She bit her lip. “What happened, Quat?”

“We aren’t sure yet. Une— said there was the possibility of an explosion in the main control rooms. They are losing rotation and power. Half of the colony is already in the dark.”

“Are you out of your mind?” Lowell sagged back against the bulkhead. “You can’t take the Senator into that.”

“Every ship in this quadrant is being diverted to help evacuate the colonists. Even if they fix the problem and save the colony—they can’t afford to risk having 6,000 people trapped in freefall; especially not if they get the artificial gravity back unexpectedly. Heero reports that they may be losing life support before then as it is.”

“Heero’s there?”

“He and Trowa both. They’re trying to restore order, but he says to evacuate the majority of the citizens will require a street by street sweep, and there isn’t time for that. Nor do we have the manpower there to do it.”

“Aren’t there evacuation plans in place?”

“This is L2. The majority of the population is indigent and apparently untrained in the procedure. And the lights are out, so even those with a clue where to go, are panicking. We’re just lucky that this is the smallest of the L2 colonies. If there was a population of over 10,000—we wouldn’t have a prayer of saving even half of them.”

“Of course we have to help,” Relena heard herself saying. “But what can we do?”

“The sweepers will be handling most of the actual evacuation. Heero is in contact with Howard, and the first ships are already docking. We’re to hold position just off the colony.”

“You are not going to be holding back because of my presence,” Relena turned to Quatre with a determined glare. “My life is not worth more than any man, woman or child on that colony. We’ll dock and take on as many as we can—and then—“

“Relena, it’s not that. We’re going to provide support and coordination from orbit, and then swing around and pick up Heero and Trowa.” Quatre sighed. “Howard is working on a way to bypass the main airlocks into the core and get them into the control room from the outside.” His eyes dropped away from hers. 

“Why are they trying to get into the control rooms?” Lowell finally asked, echoing the question in her own mind aloud. “If they’re already going to evacuate the colony?”

“There’s still a chance to keep life-support and rotation from failing—if we can find out what went wrong. There— has been evidence that sabotage might be a factor. Preventers have been sending teams into the control rooms of all of the colonies to do routine inspections and repairs, to stop this sort of thing from happening.”

“The riots?” 

“Caused by failing temperature controls.” Quatre met her eyes again. “Nothing like this has happened on any of the other colonies. We don’t know yet what went wrong there.”

“What about the team sent into this colony?” Lowell asked grimly. “Are they dead?”

“We don’t know. Contact was lost with them before the lights started going out— but it is unknown whether they triggered the explosion or have been simply trapped by it.”

“Oh God…” Relena sagged back in her seat, staring numbly at her hands. “Sabotage—someone deliberately set out to kill an entire colony.”

“It wouldn’t be the first time,” Quatre hissed, and turned away. Realizing too late what she’d said, and to whom, she raised her head only to see the cockpit door closing behind him.

“Quatre—I’m sorry.” The words echoed ominously in the nearly empty shuttle.


	20. Into the Mystic

The main hanger bay for L2-V08997 resembled a scene from a nightmare. Ships of all sizes and models were crowded into each bay, and there were more arriving, falling into orbit around the failing colony. The majority of the sweeper fleet had descended on the colony within three hours of getting the first distress call, taking over the evacuation with a grim efficiency that would have amazed him at any other time. 

Trowa barely spared the scene a glance, concentrating on herding another group of frightened colonists into the arms of the crews lining the docking tubes. 

“Sir, the last of the escape pods have been launched. Sweeper ship Infinity is tracking them down.”

“Damn.” He turned to Crowley. “How many?’

“Fourteen pods, sir.” 

Fourteen pods— even if all of them held the full seventyfive-person capacity, that was barely a thousand people. Preventers in full riot gear had been stationed to ensure that the pods were filled in as orderly a manner as possible, and that no pod left the ring half full. But out of the forty pods on the ring itself, only fourteen had been launchable. He’d already heard reports that rioting had started among the colonists who had actually made it to the escape routes where the pods were, before the Preventers could restore order. 

“How are the sweeps coming?” The local police and emergency forces were combing the streets, urging the stragglers towards the three functioning hangar bays and trying to look for those inhabitants that had gone to ground in the shadows. Remembering Duo’s descriptions of life on the streets and the hiding places his gang had used… Trowa had no illusions that they would find even a fraction of the indigent in time. It had been four hours and they had barely a third of the population convinced that leaving their home was the only option. 

Crews of sweepers were moving through each quadrant after the police, simply grabbing any living bodies that they came across and evacuating them by force. But it wasn’t going to be enough. He could feel the change in gravitation already. In a matter of hours-- there were going to be bodies bouncing off the walls all around them.

“Sir, Quadrant Three is completely clear, though apparently a third of it had been uninhabitable and sealed prior to this incident. Quadrant Four, they haven’t been able to restore emergency lights yet, but at last count, four hundred people had voluntarily evacuated using flashlights. Quadrants One and Two… no status yet sir.”

“Keep at it.” Trowa turned away as his comm unit crackled. “Barton.”

/”Quat’s here. Howard is meeting us at bay 19. He thinks there’s a way in.”/

“On my way.” Trowa started jogging back down the line of bays, threading his way through clusters of terrified colonists. “Any contact with Cryswell?”

“No. I’m sorry, Tro.”

“Yeah.” Disconnecting, he nearly tripped over a trio of street kids, dressed in rags and being herded into the crowd by two large sweepers. _Damn,_ he thought grimly. _I’m glad Duo isn’t here now._ He knew his friend would be agonizing over the ones they couldn’t find. 

A moment later, the kids managed to tear themselves free of the sweepers, running for shelter in the shadows. “Dammit!” Without pausing to think, he snagged up the one closest to him, hauling the struggling body off the deck with a growl. The child couldn’t have been older than six, if that. Wide eyes that reminded him all too much of Duo’s glared up at him. He saw the other two hesitate, half turning back to look for their missing companion. 

Trowa met the hostile eyes, seeing the fear there. “Hold still, dammit.” The other two kids hovered out of reach, but they didn’t abandon the one he still held, and followed him warily down the length of the dock. 

“What the hell are you doing?” Heero asked, reaching his side in the crowd. With a start, he realized he was standing only yards from bay 19. Chang was standing at the mouth of the docking tube with Howard and a dark-haired Preventer Trowa didn’t recognize. “We don’t have time—”

“We can’t leave them.” Trowa met his lover’s eyes with a pain he couldn’t hide. “They’re like Duo. They’ll run and hide, and they’ll die in the shadows.”

“Tro— Someone else will get them…” Heero hesitated, and Trowa saw him looking around at the chaos around them. They both knew that the kids would be lost in the crowd within seconds. “Fuck. Give her to me. We don’t have time to argue about it either…”

He hadn’t even realized that he was holding a little girl until he passed her into Heero’s arms. The two boys, feral eyes filled with helpless fury, backed away as he turned. He took a step towards them and watched them scatter. 

“Leave them. We’ll take this one…” Heero’s voice gentled. “We have to save the ones we can, Trowa. If we make it to the control rooms… they might still survive.”

Might. He turned away with a groan. _Duo… I’m sorry._

They were halfway to the ramp when Howard stalked past them with a growl. 

“Howard!” Chang yelled after the man, but didn’t follow. A moment later, Trowa was close enough to see that he was holding Relena in the tube with one arm around the Senator’s waist. Heero glared at her, shoving the child into her arms and pushing both of them up the ramp. 

Trowa hesitated only for a moment, torn between duty and guilt, before turning and following Howard. The old man had stopped just past him, facing down the two kids and holding something out to them. He caught a glimpse of the bright wrappers on the candy bars, and grinned a little as the two kids moved suspiciously closer to the man. The Sweeper eyed the kids, then to Trowa’s surprise, tossed them the bars. Trowa half expected them to run once they caught the candy. 

“You want more? Or you gonna let your little sister eat the rest?” The man taunted softly. The two kids looked at the bars, then each other. “Come on. You want your sister, you’re gonna have to get on that shuttle.” 

Trowa held his breath. The kids looked back up at them; and then yelped as the unfamiliar Preventer circled behind them and grabbed each of them by the arm. Moving quickly, Trowa took one of the squirming kids from him before either of them could twist free. 

“Let’s go, Boys.” Howard turned and stalked back towards the ship, straightening his sunglasses with a sigh. “You have a colony to save.”

“Thanks Howie.” Trowa hauled his protesting captive up the ramp after the old man. 

“Don’t call me Howie.” The old man shook his head. “I don’t care what Duo told you, the name is Howard. Got it?”

“Sure, Howie.” Trowa noticed the other Preventer throwing him an odd look, even as they shoved the two kids into seats near Relena, who was still holding the little girl in her lap. The senator seemed oblivious to the stains from grimy hands as she rocked the child.

“Why couldn’t we try to save more?” Relena glared at Heero. “There is room on this shuttle. People are going to die and…”

“Relena—if we get to the core in time, we might be able to save a lot more people. There wasn’t time.” Heero glared at Trowa. “We didn’t have time to save these three.”

Behind them, Chang closed the hatch and disconnected them from the docking ring. Trowa found a seat and belted himself in as Quatre detached from the bay smoothly. The three kids sat in wary stillness as the shuttle moved, all attempts to escape stilled by the knowledge that they were trapped. 

“We’re not leaving anybody, Relena.” Howard shook his head. “Sweepers don’t leave anybody behind.” 

“But…”

“Relena.” She broke off, wincing at the sharp tone in Heero’s voice. “It’s too late to go back now. Howard— how do we get to the control room?”

“There’s a small maintenance airlock about twentyfive meters from the main airlock. Apparently one of the crews left a way into that one on each of the colonies, just in case.” He held up a small black box. “This transmits the signal to disarm the charges on the door. You’ll have to go across in suits. The colony’s rotation is too erratic now to try and match the umbilical for long enough for you to reach the control room and make repairs.”

“We’d have to be in suits anyway, from what Trowa saw in L2- V08895.” Heero nodded. “Then where?”

“That airlock… it’s a level above the control room, right?” Trowa pictured the floorplans for the core in his head, grateful for the first time for having a nearly photographic memory.

“Right,” Howard nodded. “You know the layout?”

“Unless this colony is radically different from L2- V08895.”

“The differences are on the way through the core. You should be fine.”

Heero eyed him steadily. “I don’t want you going in, Trowa. I want you helping Quat with the flying.”

“I’ve already done one set of repairs in a suit.” Trowa shook his head. “I’ll be fine. And you need me. There isn’t going to be time to stop and look at a map, Heero. I know the plans. I’m going in.”

“He’s right,” Howard sighed. “And you’re going to be making your way in through the ceiling of the control room. You might as well take the gymnast with you.”

“Fine.” Heero muttered grudgingly. “Trowa, Chang and I will go in. Lowell, right? You’ll stay here with Relena and Howard.”

The man nodded silently.

/”We’re in sight of the airlock. ETA for matching spin in seven minutes, guys.”/ Quatre’s voice echoed softly from the com. /”Get suited and into the airlock.”/

“On our way, Quat.” Heero nodded at them. Taking a deep breath and trying to ignore the odd feeling in his stomach, Trowa followed his partners to the shuttle’s airlock. 

* * *

“Ivan…?” 

Cryswell groaned, rolling his head to the side and trying to see through the thick rime of ice on his faceplate. He could hear Frost to his right, through the roaring in his ears. They were in complete darkness. He tried to remember what had happened, but had only chaotic memories of the floor rippling beneath them as a shockwave slammed into them; right before the lights had gone out completely.

“Sarge?”

“Here.” He struggled inside the bulky suit, and finally found the wrist light. The dim glow illuminated the hallway, and he caught sight of two suited bodies lying near him. “Status?”

“Head hurts like a _motherfucker_. What the hell happened?”

“Explosion.” He rolled over and crawled towards the suit that wasn’t moving. “Ivan?”

“No good, Sarge. He’s either still out, or dead.” Brushing the frost away from the other man’s faceplate, he saw Ivanovich’s pale features were streaked with blood. But there was a faint fog on the glass above his mouth, and he could find no signs that the man’s suit had been breached.

“He’s alive.” 

“But if he doesn’t wake up?” There was an edge of panic in the other man’s voice.

“Then we carry him,” Cryswell sighed. “Try to reach the ring on the radio again.”

“No one has answered for hours, Sarge.”

“Keep trying until someone does, then.” Cryswell turned to look at his companion. “Stay with me here, Frost. I need you. Do you hear me?”

There was silence for a moment, before he saw the man’s helmet bob in a shaky nod. 

“Good. We’re going to get out of here, Frost. And we’re going to find the nearest bar… and I’m going to buy you the biggest damn bottle of Tequila you ever saw. But only if you stay cool.”

“I… yeah, Sarge. Okay.” Frost picked himself off the ground, though Cryswell could see him listing to one side. Considering the condition of his own head, he was a little surprised that any of them were standing upright. “I’m icy cool.”

“Get on the radio.” 

“Right. On it Sarge.”

Only when he heard the low murmur of Frost’s voice through the suit channel did he turn back to Ivanovich. Crouching next to the unconscious man, he checked his chronometer quickly. _Shit. We had to have been out for at least three hours._ The suits would not sustain them for much longer than another three hours; four at most. Deciding that that was not information Frost needed to hear at the moment, he shook his head and reached for Ivanovich. Manhandling the suited body took most of his strength, and it was a relief when Frost moved over to take half the unconscious man’s weight. Shining his light around the corridor, he found the trail of their footsteps back through the frost. 

“Holy Mary, Mother of God in Heaven…” Frost’s voice trailed off into silence as they took in the two large metal beams that had punched through the floor of the corridor behind them, effectively blocking the way back to the ring. “What are we gonna do now?”

“We’re going to keep going… find that control room… and fucking call for help.” 

* * *

Duo looked up as Zechs nudged him, taking the cup of coffee the other man held out. The younger man had been oddly quiet, ever since Quatre had reported in that Heero, Wufei and Trowa were suiting up to head into the core through the outside maintenance airlock. 

“He’s going to be okay, Duo,” Zechs leaned his head down to say softly, feeling Une’s eyes on his back as he did so. 

“Yeah. I know. But… in suits?” Duo shivered. “Trowa hates environmental suits.”

“He’s already worn one into the core at L2- V08895.”

“Yeah… and that colony wasn’t in danger of blowing up, either,” Duo sighed. “I know, I know. I can’t help it though. He’s my best friend.” Shadowed eyes met his, and the young man winced. “Shit. Sorry Zechs. Relena’s on that colony too. I’m being stupid…”

“Lowell, Howard and Winner will protect Relena.” Zechs ran his fingers down the long braid, hoping Une couldn’t see the slight movement. “It’s okay to be worried. Just don’t panic. Alright?”

“Right.” With a shaky smile, the young man took a sip of the coffee. “Thanks, Zechs.”

“You’re welcome.” Zechs sat back down in the empty chair he’d dragged in from the waiting area in front of Une’s office. The five of them were cramped in the office, but Une had not asked any of them to leave, even though there was nothing they could do to help the situation from Sanck. They had been listening to the communications from the colony for the last few hours. 

Dorothy met his eyes briefly from the table along the far wall. She and Sally had cleared it off enough for her to set up the laptop, though she was careful not to let even the doctor see what was on the screen at the moment. So far they had managed not to tell either of the two women that Epyon still existed, much less that it was in the office with them at the moment. Glancing back, he caught sight of Treize hovering behind Une’s chair, his expression grim as he watched the monitor. 

/”We’re in the airlock.”/ Heero’s voice echoed in the quiet room, and all eyes locked immediately on the communication console. /”Cycling into the colony.”/

“Acknowledged, Yuy. Be careful in there.” Une’s voice was calm, though her expression was grim.

There was no answer, only a soft snort from Duo.


	21. House of Cards

“We’re in.” Heero let out a sigh of relief as the airlock closed behind them, leaving then in the relative safety of the inner corridor. “Which way?”

“To our right.” Trowa motioned past him, his movements jerky in the dim light. The only illumination came from the wristlights they were wearing, and shadows rippled across the walls as they moved. “Turn left at the next junction. There should be an emergency hatch about thirty meters down that hall.”

“Let’s move.” Wufei muttered, striding in the direction indicated. “Have you guys noticed there’s a breach somewhere? No air here.”

They didn’t speak, though Heero privately found the silence unnerving. Something about this entire place felt—odd; though at the same time, it looked very familiar. 

“Does anyone else get the feeling we’ve been here before?” Wufei asked, at almost the same moment the thought crossed his mind. 

“It looks just like L2-V08895,” Trowa shrugged, slowing as he slipped in the ice. 

“No, he’s right,” Heero admitted reluctantly. “I’ve seen this before. Or something really damn similar.”

“Huh. Déjà vu?” Trowa turned his head to look at Heero. 

“Something like that.” Shaking his head a little, Heero forced the weird feeling down. “What happens when we find this hatch?”

“We’ll have a twelve foot drop into the control room. Apparently they weren’t taking any chances on someone getting to the control rooms this way unless they came prepared and knew what to expect.” 

“So if you’re right, and someone has been sabotaging the control rooms, how are they getting in?” Wufei asked the question that had been bothering Trowa since he’d left the control room on L2-V08895.”

“There has to be another way in” Heero sighed. “Besides, only the L2 Colonies were paranoid enough to actually seal off the exterior airlocks and mine the controls.”

“They had good reason,” Trowa muttered. “Hm. Maybe that was it?”

“What?”

“What if the saboteur didn’t know about the mines? They could have set off the charges trying to get to the control rooms.”

“Yeah— but this is the only colony that they didn’t make it then. And that would mean team four started into the core while they were still there.”

“Possible.” Wufei didn’t sound convinced. “But it doesn’t feel right. Besides, there was no sign of damage to the main airlock when we passed. Whatever happened was inside the core.”

“Nothing about this whole damn situation feels right.”

“There it is.” Trowa moved ahead, crouching down next to the hatch and scraping ice away with one glove. “Shit.”

“What?”

“The hatch is warped. Looks like the explosion _was_ in the control room. We’ll have to cut it after all.” He straightened. “Howard.”

/”Barton. What’s your status?”/

“We’re at the hatch, but it was warped in the explosion. What were the fire suppressant systems like on this colony?”

/”This is L2. What do you think?”/ The old man growled. /”But the control rooms were self-contained systems. Odds are good that any fire would have consumed the available oxygen supply there two hours ago. Assuming that your missing team hadn’t already opened the door.”/

“Great.” Wufei pulled the cutting torch off his shoulder harness and knelt on the floor where Trowa had been. “Here goes nothing.”

Trowa backed up a few paces to give him room to work. Heero could hear him trying the com channels again, though he knew neither of them was holding out much hope that the missing team was still alive. They would have been at the control room when the explosion happened, unless something had gone seriously wrong on their trip through the core.

“Cryswell— can you read me?”

For the first time in hours, that call was answered by something other than dead silence. Static flared through his comm unit, followed by a staccato burst of words.

/”…fucking piece… shit…”/ 

“Team four, do you read us?” Trowa met Heero’s eyes over Wufei’s head.

/”…Captain…rton…?”/

“Cryswell?”

/”…Frost! Sarge…it’s…’tain Barton!”/

/”Shut the fuck… Frost…Barton?….need evac…man down…”/ The words cut out again, then were followed by what sounded like the radio was being slammed repeatedly against a wall. /”Do you read me?”/

“Where the hell is your team?” Heero growled.

/”Outside… control room. We…had some trouble getting here.”/ The words were clearer now, though still interrupted by bursts of static. /”…kind of shockwave… us… damn… good thing we had…helmets on. Looks like there was…an explosion… No telling what the structural damage…the door…”/ There was a pause, before Cryswell continued. /”…running low on air…need evac…go back through the…to the ring… blocked…”/

In the background, they could hear Frost talking. /”This colony…’s a fucking deathtrap… how the fuck…stays in orbit…”/

/”Don’t touch the door!”/ A new voice cut through the static. Heero barely recognized it as Dorothy Catalonia’s. The three Gundam Pilots froze, staring at each other for a moment. /”Get down! There’s going to be a second explosion!”/

/”Holy fuck… Sarge!”/

Heero had a split second to see Wufei drop the cutting torch, before he slammed into the Chinese man and sent them rolling into Trowa. There wasn’t time to get up—to run—before the floor tilted and slammed them farther down the corridor. He tried to raise his head, only to be shoved flat by Trowa’s arm as the hatch flew past his helmet to ricochet off the wall. And then the shockwave hit, and all the lights went out.

* * * 

“Sir.”

The man didn’t turn away from his view of the stars, though he waved one hand for the speaker to continue.

“The first reports from L2 are in.”

“And what do they have to say?” He prompted impatiently.

“L2-V08997 is being evacuated. Every Sweeper and Preventer ship in the quadrant is there or on its way there.”

The man laughed softly. “Good. I wish them luck.”

“The second set of charges should have detonated by now. They still might be able to stabilize the colony, but it’s not likely.”

“No matter. L2-V08997 has fulfilled its usefulness to me, and is no longer of any concern. What of the next phase?”

“On schedule, Sir.”

“Good.” The hand waved again, this time in dismissal. “Carry on then.”

“Yes sir.” 

* * *

Dorothy stared at Epyon blankly, hearing the frantic voices of Quatre and Une calling to Yuy’s team. There was no answer, and she found herself twisting the heavy bracelet on her left arm in numb disbelief. _How could we— after all the warnings— fail to stop this?_ The words echoed around in her head, and she wanted to weep, but all of her tears had already been shed for this.

“Doro…” Zechs crouched down in front of her, catching her hands and holding them still in her lap. “This was not your fault.”

“I should have stopped them. I should have realized that there were two explosions in my dream. Should have known— that—”

“We tried, Doro. That’s all we can do.”

“But…” Her eyes slid past him to Duo, who was sitting silently with his head in his hands. “God, Duo.” 

“Shhh. Dorothy.” Ignoring the presence of both Une and Sally, he leaned forward to kiss her forehead gently. “Don’t.” After a moment, she nodded, and he moved away to put an arm around Duo. The younger man flinched, but didn’t pull away, and after a brief hesitation, he leaned into Zechs with a muffled groan. 

“No. Quatre, you can’t go after them,” Une was speaking softly. “There’s no point. And the Senator…”

/”Do not make me the excuse for leaving good men behind.”/ Relena’s voice sounded strained, but firm. Dorothy couldn’t help feeling a rush of pride that the naïve girl had grown into a strong woman. /”We’re bringing them out if I have to go in to that hole after them by myself.”/

“Relena…” Une began, only to be cut off by a hoarse cough through the comm. 

/”That’s— a nice—sentiment. But I don’t think it’s going to be necessary.”/

“Yuy?”

/”Yeah.”/

“…fucking Terminator…” Duo whispered as he raised his head, staring at Zechs in disbelief. “Tro?”

“Are Barton and Chang alright?”

/”We’re a little banged up. Thanks for the warning, by the way.”/ Trowa’s voice answered this time, and Duo sagged against Zechs in relief. /”Cryswell? Frost? Do you copy?”/

/”Cap..ain?”/

/”Status?”/ Heero’s voice was steadier this time, though still threaded with pain.

/”Frost and Ivanovich are down…and I have… part of the control room door resting on my legs.”/

/”Suit breach?”/

/”Don’t…think so…”/ The man chuckled. /”Or I’d be dead… there’s no atmosphere down here anymore.”/

/”How’s your air?”/

/”We have maybe… two hours.”/

/”Hold on. We’re coming after you. We’re approximately fifteen meters from you, one level up.”/

/”Thanks…sir…”/ There was silence for a moment. /”And thanks… whoever yelled that warning…saved our…asses.”/

“You’re welcome,” Dorothy whispered, as she felt the first tears of relief spill down her face.

/”’Fei?”/ Quatre asked, his voice shaking. /”Why isn’t he talking, Heero?”/

There was a tired chuckled. /”I took out his radio when I tackled him. He’s fine, Quat.”/

/”Hey, Howard…”/ Trowa sounded somewhere between amused and shell-shocked. /”You were right— the fire suppressant system here sucks, man. Guess it’s a good thing that all the oxygen was used up in the first explosion. There’s a hole in the control room now you could drive a car through.”/

/”I didn’t design it, kid.”/ The sweeper sounded grim. /”And we can see the hole from here. Not all the air was gone by the time it blew… but damn near. Lucky you guys didn’t get sucked out too.”/

/”Not enough air left…what the hell are you doing, Tro?”/

/”Going down there. Hold this."/

/”Are you out of your mind?”/ Quatre asked angrily. /”If there’s another explosion…”/

/”Then I’d better make it fast. Cause if that isn’t one of Cryswell’s men, who the hell is it?”/ Trowa sighed. /”Besides, through the control room is the fastest way to Cryswell’s team now. We don’t even have to open the door.”

/”True,”/ Heero agreed grudgingly. /”Especially since we lost Wufei’s cutting torch.”/

/”It would take too long to cut through the floor anyway.”/

“Yuy?” Une asked after a moment, when there was no other conversation. “What the hell is happening?”

/”Trowa’s in the control room, heading for where the door used to be. I’m not sure we are going be able to fix this, Howard. There is a lot of damage down there. The sweepers are going to have to keep evacuating the colony.”/

/”Figured as much, Yuy.”/ 

* * *

Trowa edged around the smoldering remains of what had been the main drive console; now it was so much twisted metal. Conscious of the hazards of razor sharp metal to his suit, he cautiously nudged what remained of the suited body lying behind it. There wasn’t much left, since the suit had caught quite a lot of the shrapnel and force from the explosion, and the last rush of air escaping from the breach had apparently taken the parts that hadn’t been pinned down by the remnants of the secondary console. 

He caught a glimpse of frosted skin through the shattered faceplate, and blood from the single bullet hole in the man’s forehead. He blinked, then realized that the man had to have been dead long before the explosion. The body had been on the floor, sheltered from the initial blast, or there would have been nothing left of it at all. 

/”Trowa?”/ Heero’s voice snapped him out of his daze. /”We’re coming down.”/

“I’m okay. Stay there. I’d rather have both of you up there to pull us up if we have to make a fast exit.

/“You’re going to be able to deal with three wounded by yourself?”/ Heero sounded amused, for Heero. /“Besides, we’re not going back out the airlock.”/

“Oh— yeah.” He glanced over at the gaping hole out into space where the outer wall of the control room had been. “That would be kind of pointless.” Leaving the body parts where they lay, he picked his way around the secondary drive console and finally reached the doorway. “Cryswell?”

“Still…here…” The man was laying half pinned by the buckled metal door, though he stirred when Trowa crouched near his head. 

“Good to know.” Trowa glanced past him to see one of the other suited forms stir slightly. “Frost?”

“Holy…mother…sonovabitch…”

“Frost is apparently fine.” Cryswell managed a faint chuckle, only to groan as Trowa tried to shift the door. “Oh…fuck. Sorry Captain.”

“That’s alright. Talk to me Cryswell. What hurts?”

“Knee…” the man gasped hoarsely. “Not gonna be able to walk.”

“Sarge?” Frost crawled over to his teammate, unsteady but moving on his own. “Ivan’s still out. Are you okay?”

“Messed up… pretty bad.” 

“Give me a hand, Heero.” Trowa gripped the edge of the door, and between the two of them they finally lifted it carefully off of Cryswell.

“Okay,” Trowa paused for a breath, a little startled at how exhausted he was until he remembered that he had been up for at least eighteen hours, and running on adrenaline for the last six alone.

“I’ll get him.” Heero nudged him aside. “You and Wufei get Ivanovich.”

“Right.” Leaving Cryswell to Heero, he nudged Frost out of the way and moved over to where the third man lay still and unmoving. Together they got him on his feet, though Trowa found himself taking most of the unconscious man’s weight. 

It wasn’t that Frost wasn’t trying, he realized as the man staggered sideways unsteadily, then caught himself; but his equilibrium was not good. He wondered if one of the two shockwaves had affected his eardrums. Maybe that was why Frost kept yelling into the radio. A moment later Wufei pushed Frost out of the way and took his place, leaving the wounded but still mobile man to move on his own.

“How much farther?” Cryswell asked behind him. “You can’t… carry me… whole damn way…back to the ring.”

“The ring’s not our destination.” 

“Sarge… I don’t think… one bottle’s enough for this…”

“Keep walking, Frost. I’ll get you a damn case of Tequila. Just keep moving.”

It felt like hours as they maneuvered the unconscious man through the labyrinth of razor sharp metal to the hole in the colony. 

“Chang, you and Frost go first. Trowa, take Ivanovich once they’re at the shuttle airlock.” Heero moved up behind them, Cryswell draped over his shoulder in an awkward fireman carry. Lowering Cryswell to his one good leg and leaving him leaning on the wall, Heero turned to Trowa.

“Tro, keep an eye on them. I’m going to see what the damage was to the life support module. We may not be able to sustain gravity for long, but if we can keep the life-support going we might still get the rest of the colonists off.”

He nodded, taking part of Cryswell’s weight on his own shoulder.

“Howard, what’s the status on the ring?”

/“Not good. They felt that second explosion, and it seems to have worked to scare a lot of people out of hiding. They’re swarming the docks though. We’re gonna need a lot more ships if we’re gonna get everybody.”/ There was a pause. /“And that explosion wasn’t just at the control room. The main force of it was in the engines.”/

“So? We were losing them anyway...”

/“It ripped a hole through Quadrant Four. Section seals came down, so the rest of the colony still has air, but we lost nine Sweeper teams, sixteen Preventers and God only knows how many colonists.”/

“Any ships?”

There was silence for a moment. /“Two. One was hit by debris as the atmosphere vented, it looked like a bus took out their main engines. The second—didn’t get undocked, and we think they might have been caught in the explosion. Another one has a seriously damaged umbilical and docking tube. They’re actually headed for earth now, can’t do the repairs in space. Three others took minor damage, but managed to disconnect in time. They only lost crew. Most of that hanger had been cleared already. Hangers One and Two are taking the main brunt of evacuation.”/

“Shit…” Trowa swayed, realizing then just how close they had come. The control room was not far from the engines. Quadrant four had been directly above them. 

/”Yeah. You boys get the hell out of there. You aren’t going to be able to fix things enough for it to be worth the risk. And I am _not_ telling Duo I let you get dead.”/

/”He’s right,”/ Une spoke up. /”Get those men out of there. I want all of you out of that room.”/

“Working on it,” He sighed, grabbing the rope from his belt and using it to link Ivanovich’s suit to his. “I want the hell out of here too. Believe me.”


	22. Dark Side of the Moon

Trowa sagged against the inner wall of the airlock as it cycled, trying to disconnect the rope linking his suit to Ivanovich with shaking hands. 

“Tro,” Heero moved over, brushing his hands out of the way and cutting the knots with his belt knife. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” he answered shakily. “I want out of this suit though.” Relief at being safely back in the shuttle left his knees feeling more than a little weak, and he forced himself to stay upright by will alone. Six people crowded into the airlock in full suits left no room for even one to sit down. But at least it served to remind him that he was not drifting alone in space, wearing the suit that should have been his coffin.

“Me too.” Heero’s helmet touched his for a moment, pulling away only when the siren sounded to announce that the inner door was unlocking. “Just a few more minutes, Tro.”

“Yeah…” The door finally slid open. He and Wufei gathered up Ivanovich again, while Heero helped Cryswell into the shuttle. Howard and Lowell were waiting just outside the small airlock to take the unconscious man from them, and Trowa unfastened his helmet and tossed it onto the nearest rack gratefully. Stripping quickly out of the suit, he slumped into one of the nearby seats and rubbed his head wearily.

“Here.” Heero stopped in front of him, holding out a protein drink. His lover had removed his helmet, but was still wearing the rest of the suit. “Drink it.”

“I’m okay…”

“I didn’t ask if you were okay, I told you to drink it.” 

Rolling his eyes, Trowa took the drink gratefully and watched as Heero stripped the rest of his suit off, then turned to help Cryswell. The dark-skinned Sergeant was watching worriedly as Lowell and Howard removed Ivanovich’s helmet, ignoring his own injuries and only looking away when Heero pushed him forcefully into another of the seats. 

Setting the drink aside, Trowa turned to see the last member of team four slumping gratefully to the floor of the shuttle with a groan.

“Frost,” Trowa moved quickly to kneel before the man, taking his helmet and snapping the top seals of his suit. “Status?”

“Fucking happy to be out of that tin can. Sir.” Haggard gray eyes met his, as the stocky blond winced. “Sorry, Captain.”

“I feel the same way. Don’t worry about it.” Trowa grinned faintly. “Are you injured?”

“My head hurts. And I can only hear about half of what you’re saying… but I think I’m okay. Ivan?”

Trowa looked over his shoulder to see Howard and Lowell exchanging grim looks. “Howard’s looking after him. Get the rest of the way out of that suit.”

“Yes sir…” Frost struggled to obey, only to lose his balance as the shuttle banked unexpectedly. “Shit!”

“Take it slow,” Trowa advised, steadying him until the shuttle leveled out again. 

“When I hit Earth… I am never fucking setting foot off of it again,” The man grumbled as he got out of the suit. 

“Here.” They both looked up as Relena appeared next to them, holding out another of the protein drinks to Frost with one hand and clutching the back of a seat with the other. “You look like you could use a drink.”

“Is it alcoholic?” The man eyed the drink skeptically. “If it’s not, it ain’t gonna do me much good…” He looked up then, and his eyes widened. “S-Senator Peacecraft?”

“Yes,” she sighed. “It’s not alcoholic. Though I might be able to find you some champagne…”

“Champagne?” The man blinked, then considered. “Champagne would do, I guess.”

“No champagne,” Wufei said curtly, handing Frost two pills. “Not with those.”

Trowa could see the man silently debating the merits of being pain-free but not drunk, or being drunk and not caring about the pain.

“I doubt we have enough champagne on board to do you any good.” He clapped the man on the shoulder and stood up. “Belt in. We aren’t out of this yet.”

“Sir…” The man swallowed the pills reluctantly, still throwing wide-eyed looks at Relena as she moved past them to where Heero was examining Cryswell’s injured knee. Wufei hauled Frost bodily into one of the seats and then moved over to join Howard and Lowell. Trowa sighed and started to make his way unsteadily towards the cockpit. Only long practice kept him from losing his balance as the shuttle rocked again. 

In the center of the shuttle, the rows of seats on each side were fewer, and set face to face, rather than all facing the same direction. Passengers in at least three rows sat back to back, and were able to converse with the person sitting opposite them. It made for a convenient layout for planning strategy, or in the case of Relena, discussing the upcoming agenda for meetings with aides. 

As he came abreast of the first of these rows, he heard a small whimper, and it was only then that he remembered the three kids they’d hauled off the docks. Looking down, he saw two pairs of wary eyes staring at him from the corner formed by one row of seats and the bulkhead. The kids had wedged themselves there, practically under the seats and pressed tight to the shuttle wall. The smallest one was curled into a tight ball against the oldest one’s side, her head buried against his grimy T-shirt. The oldest one looked like he might have been twelve, though it was hard to tell under the dirt. 

“Get in the seats and belt in,” he growled, trying to keep his voice steady. None of the kids moved. “Dammit.” _Just like Duo_ , he thought with a grimace. _Stubborn, suspicious and entirely too prone to going to ground._ “This is going to be a bumpy ride, and the seats are really more comfortable.”

“Leave them be…” Relena’s bodyguard brushed past him, opening an overhead compartment to pull out a stack of blankets. “They’re as safe there as anywhere right now. And if they feel secure, they aren’t going to be moving around the shuttle.”

He turned his head to look at the man, surprised as well as annoyed. “You’re an expert on street kids?” He couldn’t help remembering the quiet stealth as the man moved around the kids on the dock, as if he instinctively knew how to avoid their notice.

“Hardly an expert.” The man frowned, and from his distant expression, it was clear he was thinking about something far away. “Though spending the last two weeks watching my partner blend into the streets provided quite an education.” His expression darkened suddenly. “And kids are pretty much the same, regardless of where they’re from. They’re safe enough. Howard rigged straps for them.”

Tossing two of the blankets to the kids, he moved past Trowa and back to where Howard and Wufei were examining Ivanovich. Trowa glanced back at the kids a last time, but short of hauling them bodily out of their corner, he wasn’t going to be able to shift them; and he was far too exhausted to be able to corral three mini-Duos. The floor dropped momentarily out from beneath him, and he forced the three kids out of his thoughts. 

“Quat, what the hell is going on up here?” He slipped into the cockpit, bracing himself in the doorway as the shuttle lurched again.

“Sorry, Trowa.” Quatre didn’t look up from the controls as Trowa dropped into the co-pilots seat and strapped in. “You okay? You feel like hell.”

“I’m alive,” Trowa grinned wearily, though he couldn’t quite force himself to actually feel amused. “Fuck! Watch the escape pod…”

“What the hell do you think I’ve been dodging?” Quatre growled. 

“Any news on the evacuation?” Trowa picked up the second com unit and slipped it over his head. 

“Slow, but best guess is we have over three thousand people off that ring now.” Quatre shoved the nose of the shuttle down sharply, and another of the round pods passed above the shuttle, narrowly missing their tail. “Shit! Isn’t anyone picking these things up? How many are there?”

“Only fourteen were launched.” Trowa craned his head to look at another monitor.

“Damn. I’ve nearly run into five. Hopefully that means the others have been picked up already.” 

It took Trowa a moment to remember his conversation with Crowley; it felt like weeks had passed since they’d left the ring. “Infinity is collecting them.”

“That’s nice. We nearly hit that too,” Quatre sighed. “Not to mention the cloud of debris that vented when the hull breached in Quadrant Four.”

“Any idea what the population actually was to start with?” Trowa asked, as he began scanning reports from the colony.

“Not a clue.”

“Make a wider orbit…”

“Would you like to drive?” Quatre asked, sounding more than a little testy. Trowa debated telling him he sounded like Duo, then decided not to mention that fact.

“No, actually— I wouldn’t.” Trowa eyed his shaking hands and sighed. “Sorry. But there’s a cluster of ships heading our way, dead ahead.”

Quatre glanced over, and his expression lightened abruptly. “Allah be praised, it’s Rashid.” He changed course, angling the shuttle to curve behind the formation of seven Maganac ships. 

“I thought they were on L4.” 

“They were heading to L6, same as we were. Changed course to get here when we sent out the distress call. It still may not be enough. The colony is destabilizing faster than we had hoped. That second explosion…”

“Yeah,” Trowa sighed, watching as another mismatched squadron of ships began to make a straggling formation away from the colony in the general direction of the L1 cluster. There were fewer ships arriving now, and those that were full of refugees were leaving the field to make room for newcomers. “Shit— this is so fucked.”

“Thanks for that observation, Mr. Maxwell,” Wufei muttered sarcastically as he ducked into the cockpit. “Quat, Howard says to swing around towards Hanger Bay 2.”

“Right.” Quatre changed course once again, then swore. “There are too many ships. Why did we think getting rid of mobile suits was a bad idea? It would be a hell of a lot easier to maneuver through this if we had the Gundams.”

“Yeah, and we’d be able to evacuate all of about seven people in only the Gundams.” Trowa frowned. “There. The Botany Bay is pulling out of Bay 39…”

“I see it.” Quatre began the long sweep to bleed off momentum, before turning towards the opening. “This is Preventer Shuttle Sandstorm, final approach to Bay 39.”

/”We read you, Sandstorm.”/ The voice over the com channel was calm, though Trowa could hear the faint note of panic just beneath the surface. He tried to remember which of Howard’s ships was serving as the impromptu traffic controllers. So far, they’d been amazingly lucky not to have any ships actually collide in the chaos surrounding the colony. /”Botany Bay is clearing the dock. What’s your capacity?”/

“We have wounded on board. Dropping off command personnel,” Trowa responded, mentally trying to calculate how many refugees they could fit on the shuttle. “This is Preventer Captain Barton.”

/”Sandstorm? That’s the shuttle Howard’s on…”/ Another voice sounded suddenly through the com. /”Fucking hell!”/

/”Roy, what the hell are you screeching about?”/ Howard’s voice came online, sounding outwardly as calm as if he was simply strolling down a beach. 

/”We’re picking up massive heat buildup on the section seal between Quadrants Three and Two, Howard. Looks like Three is on fire.”/

/”How many teams left in Quadrant Two?”/

/”Seven sir. We have most of the population on the docks, though we don’t have nearly enough ships there to get them off.”/

Trowa opened a new window on the monitor before him, leaving Quatre to fly the shuttle. He was only dimly aware of Wufei bracing himself in the doorway, as he tried frantically to visualize the schematics of the station.

“Howard, if they can make it to the Hanger bay— we can seal off the docks from the rest of the Quadrant. We’ll have to manually blow the seal between Quadrant Three and Four.” He frowned, enlarging a portion of the schematics to show the section seals.

/”Vent the fire into space, huh? That’ll kill anyone left in Quadrant Three…”/

“Three was already clear. And if it’s hot enough already to burn through the section seal, anyone left in that Quadrant is dead by now anyway.” 

/”True. You heard the man, Roy. Get those teams moving…”/ There was a pause. /”Winner, is this shuttle armed?”/

“Yes.” Quatre didn’t bother to look away from his controls, though Trowa saw his mouth tighten unhappily. 

“Why not simply blow a hole in the hull?” Relena asked, moving up behind Wufei. “Won’t that do the same thing?”

Wufei shook his head. Trowa saw the movement out of the corner of his eyes. “Too much debris would be released, and there is too much traffic in orbit. We lost two ships the last time. If Quat hadn’t dived when Quadrant Four was breached, this shuttle would be gone. And I doubt we’ll be that lucky twice.” He didn’t bother to point out that their shuttle would be directly in front of said hole the second time. “The section seal could be pierced enough to vent the atmosphere through the hole in Quadrant Four, but it should still provide enough of a barrier to keep most of the big stuff in. That’s going to be a damn tight angle Trowa…”

/”Winner, pull out and head back around the ring. We have four out of the five Gundam Pilots on board—and while ordinarily I would insist on Duo taking this shot, he’s not here. Yuy will have to do.”/

For a long moment, there was no discernable change in the shuttle’s trajectory. Trowa took a deep breath, glancing down at his hands. They had stopped shaking, though he wasn’t sure if that was a good sign or a bad one. _Is it possible to run out of adrenaline?_

“They have six minutes to get to the docks, Howard,” Trowa heard himself saying. “If the seal at Two is breached, when we blow the section seal at Three it’s going to take all the atmosphere from Two as well. We need that dock sealed before then.”

/”Understood, Captain.”/ 

“Preparing to take over shuttle controls.” He didn’t glance at Quatre as he said it, just concentrated on flipping the switches that would change his role from co-pilot to pilot. “Get out of the cockpit, Quat.”

“I—”

He flipped the last switch, watching his screens go live as he cut power to Quatre’s controls. The shuttle twitched as he punched in the new course, and the sleek ship responded. A moment later, Wufei practically dragged Quatre out of the pilot seat and back into the main cabin.

Trowa forced himself not to wonder how many people were left in section two— how many would die if the seals had breached. Heero slid into the seat behind him, reaching for the weapons controls even as Trowa sent the image of the target area to his monitor. 

Trowa looked away from his monitor long enough to lean around the seat, looking through the open door to the main cabin as Chang strapped Quatre into a seat, and then dropped into the one next to him. 

“Everybody belt in.” Howard left Cryswell and Frost guarding the unconscious form of Ivanovich, heading for the cockpit and taking the former pilot’s seat. “You have the schematics for all the colonies memorized?”

“No— but at the moment, the only one that matters is this one…” Trowa muttered, throwing one last glance over his shoulder to see Lowell drag Relena into the row of seats facing the three kids. 

“Then this is your show.” The old man met his eyes with a grimace. “And I’ll tell you the same thing I’d have told Duo. Don’t fuck up.” His eyes turned to Heero and the scowl only increased.

“Thanks Howie.” 

* * *

Zechs glanced over at Duo, as the young man grimaced. “Duo?”

Duo shook his head, not bothering to look away from the communication console. If force of will had been enough, he’d have already teleported onto the shuttle. Zechs put a hand on his shoulder, squeezing a little. Duo had relaxed only a fraction since the other three pilots and the rescued Preventer team had returned to the safety of the shuttlecraft.

“Why is Trowa taking over?” Sally asked, as they listened to the conversation in the shuttle. “I though Quatre was your strategist.”

“He is,” Duo muttered. “But…”

“But what?”

“He won’t be able to— to give the command for Heero to fire on the colony,” Duo sighed, his eyes grim. “Even to save it.”

“Shit.” Zechs closed his eyes. It was almost unnerving, that even after a year, Duo was enough in tune with his former partners to know exactly what they were thinking. “Can Yuy make that shot?”

Duo shrugged. “Probably. I… not knowing what the angle is going to be, I can’t guess. But I trust Trowa to know what he’s doing lining it up. He’s a damn scary pool shark.”

“What happens if they miss?” Dorothy asked quietly.

“They breach the hull on the outside of the ring, and end up venting everything in the quadrant that isn’t nailed down into space.” He paused, then looked up at her. “Or they hit the inside of the ring, ignite the fuel cells lining the inner walls— and take out the whole colony with one shot.” Reaching up, he shoved his bangs out of his eyes. “But that’s what they face if they don’t get that fire put out, too.”

/”Section seals to Hanger Bay 2… closing. All Sweeper teams accounted for on the docks. May God have mercy on anyone left behind…”/ Roy spoke softly, his words falling into the waiting silence.

/”Roger. We’ll be in position in thirty seconds. On my mark, Heero.”/

/”Ready.”/

The seconds ticked down slowly.

/”There’s the breach.”/ Trowa’s voice was rock steady. /”In position.”/

/”Target locked.”/ Yuy’s voice was equally calm; through the com channel, it sounded almost as if the two lovers were one person. 

/”Fire.”/


	23. Falling Away from Heaven

The shuttle was plunging away from the colony, even before there was visual confirmation of Heero’s shot. A plume of flame and small debris engulfed their backtrail, but it was clear that the shot had been on target; all the debris was coming through section four, not out of the side of the colony. Letting himself breath again, Trowa rubbed at his face with one shaky hand and debated whether or not he could actually unclench the other from the controls.

“Howard— switching controls back to you.”

“I got ‘em kid.” The old man threw him a crooked grin. “Duo was right, you are a damn cold-blooded bastard when you want to be. That was some nice flying.”

“Thanks.” Trowa barely noticed as his screens went dead, concentrating on trying to get out of the co-pilots seat without passing out. _I was wrong,_ he thought grimly. _ **This** is what it feels like to run out of adrenaline. _

Heero’s arm curved around his waist, helping him out of the cockpit. Wufei passed them with only a grim nod as he went to help Howard fly the shuttle, and Trowa caught a glimpse of Quatre’s white face as Heero tugged him towards the middle of the shuttle’s main cabin. 

Falling into the row of seats across the cabin from Relena and the kids, Trowa leaned his head back and closed his eyes wearily. 

“I’m getting too old for this shit,” he muttered softly. 

“Just rest.” Heero brushed a gentle hand against his face. “I’ve got to get back up there. You going to be okay?”

“Yeah.” He smiled, without opening his eyes. “Nice shot, by the way. Even if Howard would shoot himself in the knee before he would admit it.”

Heero snorted, and Trowa could feel him moving away.

“Trowa? Are you alright? Did it— did it work?” Relena asked anxiously. 

“Yeah. The colony didn’t blow up… it must have worked,” He sighed, then opened his eyes to look at her. “And I’m ok. Just been awake too long.”

To his surprise, her companion laughed softly, shaking his head a little in amusement.

“What?” He scowled at the older man, not in the mood for humor; especially not at his expense when he might have just killed hundreds of people. “Something funny?”

“You remind me of someone.” The man shrugged. “I’m beginning to think the refusal to sleep is a common trait among Gundam Pilots.”

“And you know a lot of them?” Trowa frowned at the man, then closed his eyes again. “Or are you more of an expert on us than you are on street kids?”

“I’m not an expert,” Lowell scowled at him. “And before today, I only really knew two of you.” Lowell stood up, heading for the back of the shuttle where they’d left Cryswell’s team. “I wasn’t trying to offend you.” 

“Lowell,” Trowa sighed, watching as the man halted to look over his shoulder at him. His face was carefully neutral, though Trowa could sense an odd anger just beneath the calm exterior. “I’m sorry. That was uncalled for.”

“Don’t worry about it.” The man glanced at Quatre, and his expression darkened. “I’m getting used to it.” Turning away, he moved back to check on Ivanovich. 

Trowa watched him go, a little startled by the dislike in the other Preventer’s eyes when he looked at Quatre. _That was weird,_ he thought wearily. _Everybody likes Quatre._

* * *

”We’re heading back into Hanger Bay 1.” Howard growled, not bothering to look around as Heero slipped back into the seat behind Wufei and pulled the headset on. 

/“What is your status?”/ Une asked grimly. /“Yuy?”/

”The colony is still there— for the moment,” Howard answered distractedly. ”Chang, get Roy back on the line. Find out what the hell traffic control is smoking out there—”

”Commander,” Heero responded, even as he began scanning the monitors on the console before him. ”Two colony sectors are completely vented. And we’re picking up spikes in the energy readings from Quadrant Two, but so far the seals on the Hangar Bay are holding.”

/”How many ships are still docked?”/

“Twelve in Hanger Bay 2. Seven in Hanger Bay 1.” 

“Why is it taking so long to get the people off?” Relena asked, her voice shaking. Heero looked up with a scowl to see her braced in the doorway again, with Quatre standing at her shoulder protectively. 

”The population is panicked. And it would take five times that many ships to completely evacuate the rest of the colony.” Quatre’s voice was soft. ”We’re running out of time.”

“But nineteen ships?”

”Already carrying full crew complements, at most each ship can only take an additional fifty refugees.”

“But…” Her expression was stunned. “That… that can’t be.”

“Relena, all the ships with a greater capacity have already left the docks. They were the first to fill.” Quatre met her anguished eyes sadly. “This isn’t like Earth. In space, resources are limited, and so is fuel. Significant changes in oxygen consumption and mass can kill a ship as easily as an explosion.”

“Preventer Shuttle Sandstorm heading for Hanger Bay 1. Confirmed ETA at Bay 4 in nine minutes,” Wufei said evenly. “Quat, get her out of the cockpit.”

“Relena,” Quatre pulled at her arm. “Come on.”

“But…” 

“Relena, go sit down and strap in,” Heero growled, without looking up from his monitors. “The longer you distract us, the fewer people we’ll be able to save.”

She made a choked sound and stumbled back from the doorway. A moment later, he heard the soft murmur of Lowell’s voice as the man pulled her back into the main cabin. 

/”Howard, seals on Hanger 2 are failing!”/ Roy’s voice cut through the comlink abruptly.

“How many people are still on the docks?” The old man asked grimly. 

/”Too many. Even filling to standing room only, I don’t think twelve ships are going to cut it, but it’s too tight in there for more. And there’s no other way off that dock, now. When Quadrant Three went, it took the atmosphere in Two as well.”/

“Load as many as absolutely possible. That’s all we can do,” Howard said quietly. “And do it damn fast, or we’ll lose all of them when those seals go.”

Heero let the voices wash over him, noting the information absently as he concentrated. But no amount of wishing was going to increase the number of ships around the colony. Every ship that could possibly reach the colony in time had already arrived.

“Final approach to Bay 4,” Wufei said calmly. “What is the status in Hanger 1?”

/”Bad and getting worse by the minute.”/ It took Heero a moment to recognize the voice as Trowa’s second in command. /”The population is rioting— they swarmed the docking tubes for Chance Luck and the Mandelay. The surviving crew of the Mandelay is barricaded in the cockpit, but they are reporting that people are crushed against the bulkhead doors inside. There’s been no word from the crew of the Chance Luck. At the moment we are trying to hold refugees back from rushing the remaining tubes. If you’re coming in— come in ready. We’ll hold the dock for you as long as we can.”/

“Understood. We are armed. Preparing for docking.” 

“You boys take the doors,” Howard sighed. “I can land this bird on my own.”

Heero was already checking his weapons as he slipped out of the seat, Chang a dark shadow at his back. Trowa and Quatre met them in the main cabin, both men also wearing headsets and grim looks. 

“Lowell,” Heero looked over at the man with Relena. “Take the Senator into the cockpit. I want her strapped in and that door barricaded.” Relena looked stunned, her eyes widening at the sight of drawn guns in their hands, even as she was being pulled to her feet.

“Heero—”

“Relena— don’t argue. Your safety must not be compromised.” 

“Senator, he’s right.” Lowell dragged her bodily towards the cockpit.

“If there’s going to be a fight, they’re going to need you more than I will,” She snapped. “I’ll go to the cockpit… if you back them up.”

“I promised Zechs that I would protect _you_ , not them,” Lowell growled. “And as Duo is so fond of reminding me, they are Gundam Pilots. They can take care of themselves.”

“But…” The door closed on any further protest. Heero dismissed the matter for the moment as the ship slipped smoothly into the bay and they heard the docking tube engage. 

“Cryswell, you and Frost keep an eye on the kids and that door,” Trowa muttered, and Heero remembered the three street kids with a start.

“Captain.” Cryswell nodded sharply, standing and bracing himself against the edge of Ivanovich’s stretcher. Frost started up the length of the shuttle, swaying a little but looking determined as he took up a position near the center of the shuttle and braced himself. 

“Crowley, opening the docking tube.”

/”We’re ready on the dock, Captain.”/ There was an audible note of panic in the man’s voice. /”Situation here is turning critical.”/

“Open the hatch.” Heero glanced at Trowa worriedly as Chang hit the hatch release. The taller man was exhausted, his green eyes dulled but determined. He could tell from his lover’s stance though, that arguing was useless.

/”Losing seals on Hanger Bay 2. Get those ships out of there!”/

/”Launching all ships from Hanger Bay 2!”/

/”Holy shit.”/ The shuttle rocked, and they could hear screeching protests from the docking tube as metal grated against metal; the steel floor of the docking bays rippled and buckled, throwing terrified refugees, Preventers and Sweepers to the ground. 

“What the hell was that?” Trowa met his eyes as they emerged from the tube into a nightmare. A mixed band of Sweepers and Preventers were ranged in front of not only their own bay, but also the two on either side, holding back the crowd with guns as they tried to keep the evacuation under control and orderly.

/”Explosion in Quadrant Two… looks like a chain reaction. We lost the Hangar.”/

“Did all the ships get clear?” Quatre called urgently.

/”We can’t get a response from the Cormorant. Everyone else is clear.”/

/”Hate to rush you boys—but we’re out of time here,”/ Howard growled. /”That explosion was in the auxiliary gravity generators.”/

“Let’s go,” Heero swore. “Crowley— grab who you can and get your men back to the Sandstorm.”

“But Captain—”

“That’s an order!” Heero didn’t bother to look around, just dived into the crowd and hauled the nearest bodies off the ground. Even in the chaos, he kept one eye on Trowa. On his other side, Chang and Quatre were shoving a group of stunned colonists toward the docking tube.

“Quat, you and Chang get inside. Start getting people strapped in.”

“Hawes— watch it!” Trowa shoved the man out of the way as the floor buckled again. “Get back to the shuttle!”

Someone screamed in the bay as a second explosion ripped through the dock. 

/”We’re losing the seals from Quadrant Two!”/ Howard yelled. /”Yuy—get your asses back on this shuttle, now!”

Hauling another woman off the dock with one hand, Heero backed quickly towards the docking tube. Trowa was right behind him, a colonist in either hand. On the docks, the crowds were beginning to surge again, realizing that the clock had run out. Sweepers closed around them protectively, and he saw the same frantic retreat at the tubes on either side. 

/”Shit—we just lost the last of the generators!”/

He felt the ramp behind him, as the last of the lights went out and they lost gravity completely. Forcing himself to ignore the screams that were suddenly all around them, he thrust the woman in his arms into the tube and caught hold of an external handgrip. Around him, the screams were swelling… and spreading. He had no doubt that anyone too far from a handgrip was on the way into freefall. 

Emergency lights cut on in the docking tubes, generated by the ship’s feeds, and he saw Trowa on the other side of the tube, one hand locked onto Hawes’ belt in a death grip. There was a small ring of sweepers and colonists that had managed to catch hold on the bulkhead just past the docking tube.

/”Life support is going— get into the tube and get that hatch shut, Yuy!”/

“Tro!” He reached across the opening, taking Hawes as Trowa swung him towards the tube. The man’s arms were wrapped around a woman and her child, though from the blood on the child’s face, he wasn’t sure that they were going to be in time to save him. Shoving them bodily into the tube, he saw Crowley and Chang reach out pull them the rest of the way into the shuttle.

“Let’s go!” Trowa yelled at the sweepers. “The seals are going—” 

One of the sweepers nodded, and they began peeling the terrified colonists off the bulkhead and passing them bodily to the two gundam pilots. Heero didn’t bother to look closely at the people, just shoved them into the hands of the Preventers lining the tube. He deliberately didn’t look out at the docks. It would do no good. There were far too many people that they weren’t going to be able to save, and there was no time to mourn them. He recalled his words to Trowa earlier, that they had to save the ones they could.

Then the remaining Sweepers were launching themselves at the end of the tube. He reached out, catching hold of the last one by the hand. As he started to drag her inside the shuttle’s docking tube, there was a final explosion from the bay. This time it was accompanied by the howling winds signaling a hull breach. Heero tightened his grip instinctively as the woman screamed, his other arm locking around the handgrip. 

He heard Trowa yelling, though words were unintelligible over the din. It was one of the few times he could remember feeling grateful for the enhanced strength Dr. J had given him, as he hauled the sweeper painstakingly slowly into the tube. Trowa’s arm locked around his waist, then another hand was reaching past him to lock onto the woman’s free arm. Together they got her into the tube. No sooner had her boots cleared the hatch than Chang hit the controls to seal the tearing winds out. 

The silence was deafening, and he found himself nearly crawling up the ramp. There was little air in the tube, and he realized that the inner hatch to the shuttle had been sealed. Even as that realization hit him, it was opening again, and they spilled into the main cabin in a heap of arms and legs. 

He tried to take a deep breath, only to realize that the sweeper was locked onto his torso with a deathgrip. 

“Tro?”

“Here…” He heard the hoarse voice of his lover practically in his ear, and it took him a moment to realize that Trowa was holding onto him nearly as tightly as the sweeper was. “You fucking scared the crap out of me!”

He coughed on a laugh. “Me too.” 

Hands were peeling the sweeper off of him, and he felt the lurch as the shuttle rolled away from the Hangar. “What’s happening?”

“Every ship that got off that dock is trying to get the hell away from the colony before the last of the fuel cells blow.” Chang reached down to give them a hand up, and they fumbled for seats as the shuttle rolled again. “Strap in. We’re not out of this yet.”

“Did we lose any?”

“We lost the Chance Luck. That was what blew the hole in the Hangar Bay.” Chang shook his head. “They tried to launch without unlocking from the tubes. We— suspect that none of the crew was left alive by that time. The crew of the Mandelay managed to seal the hatch from the cockpit. Not sure how many people are on that ship… or how many are still alive. It made it off the dock though.”

“Damn.” He looked around the crowded cabin. The Preventers and Sweepers had gotten the colonists into the shuttle’s seats and strapped in, and there were very few empty spaces. 

/”Hold on! It’s about to get rocky…”/ Howard called from the cockpit. The shuttle rolled again, and he heard screams as a shockwave slammed into them. /”We just lost colony L2-V08997.”/


	24. The Deep

Silence filled the office after Howard’s announcement. Duo could see the same numbness on his partner’s faces that he could feel on his own. Zechs was sitting behind him, one hand resting on his shoulder.

“Preventer Shuttle Sandstorm, what is your status?” Une finally broke the silence.

/”We’re still intact. Looks like we took a little damage to the rear port stabilizer, but nothing that will impair normal flight operations,”/ Howard answered after a moment. 

/”Howard, what’s our fuel like?”/ Yuy’s voice broke in.

/”Not great, but it should be more than enough to get us to one of the other colonies or even back to Earth.”/

/”What about reaching L6?”/

/”It would be tight— but doable.”/ They could virtually hear the frown on the older man’s face. /”Why? Surely, under the circumstances, that ribbon cutting ceremony will be…”/

/”I’m not concerned about the ribbon cutting,”/ Yuy growled. /”We have injured on board, but every hospital in the L2 cluster is going to be overflowing. L6 has the facilities we need, they are mandatory on any colony still under construction, and at this point, it’s still closer to go there than head back to L1.”/

“Understood, Yuy,” Une sighed, rubbing her forehead wearily. “Proceed to L6. Can your injured make it that far?”

/”Better than waiting for us to be able to dock on one of the other L2 clusters.”/ 

/”Commander,”/ Quatre’s voice entered the conversation wearily. /”One of the Maganac ships will escort us to L6. The others will help the Sweepers with the cleanup here.”/

“Agreed. Has there been a final confirmation of how many people were evacuated from the colony?”

/”Nothing final, but the rough estimate is that we managed to evacuate just over four thousand.”/

/”Yuy, how many on this shuttle?”/ Howard asked grimly. 

/”We picked up seven Sweepers, another four Preventers and eighteen colonists. Not including the three kids already on board this shuttle, and Cryswell’s team.”/

/”That makes forty-two people on this shuttle now. It’s going to be tight,”/ Howard muttered. /”We should have just enough fuel to get to L6. You sure you don’t want to drop off some of them at another colony on the way?”/

/”This colony was the farthest one out, we’d have to backtrack to reach another one, and that would leave us short of fuel. We head to L6.”/

/”I retired so I could sightsee, but this wasn’t what I had in mind,”/ Howard growled. /”Alright. Next stop L6. Have they at least built a bar there?”/

“Be safe,” Une said quietly. “And thank you for your efforts to save that colony.”

* * *

Duo slumped onto one of the couches, watching as Dorothy collapsed onto the air mattress and pulled a pillow over her head.

“It’s over.” 

“Yeah.” He tried to convince himself of that as Zechs closed the door and dropped onto the couch next to him. “So. Think we’ll get to sleep a night through tonight?”

“I don’t think even nightmares could keep any of us awake at this point,” Zechs sighed. 

“True,” Duo moved wearily to lean against his shoulder. “I could sleep for a week— except that my nerves are still twitching.”

“That would be from the adrenaline.” Zechs slipped an arm around him. “He really is alright, Duo.”

“I know,” Duo sighed. “And I was worried about all of them. I— I should have been there, y’know?”

“Instead of subjecting Howard to the joys of dealing with four grumpy ex-gundam pilots? I’m sure he would have traded places with you in a heartbeat.”

“Yeah. Well. He likes Trowa, though he’d never admit it to his face. We hung out with the sweepers for a couple of weeks, while Hilde, Quatre and Heero were recovering from that last big battle against the Libra. Chang refused to part from Quat’s side, so Trowa and I were left to do all the celebrating for the five of us. Tro drank Melvin under the table twice.”

“That is almost frightening,” Dorothy murmured, her voice muffled by the pillow over her face.

“Yeah. It really was.” Duo pulled away from Zechs to flop onto the mattress at her side, wrapping one arm around her waist tightly. “Thanks.”

“For what?”

“For saving my best friend’s life.”

“And what are we?” Zechs asked as he moved down to join them. 

“The other halves of my soul,” Duo shrugged. “Merry Christmas, guys.”

“Merry Christmas, Duo.” Zechs tugged on the braid, then rolled over on his back. “Merry Christmas, Doro.” 

“Love you guys—” she muttered, still not taking the pillow off of her face. “But I gotta sleep now.”

“I think we all can.”

* * *

Relena slumped wearily into one of the seats, rubbing hair out of her eyes with one blood-streaked hand. Around them, the shuttle resembled nothing so much as a hospital ward. She had been relieved to find that none of the refugees had life-threatening injuries, though most of them were battered and bruised, and several had broken bones or burns. Heero’s shoulder had been strained, and the Sweeper he’d pulled aboard at the last minute had a broken wrist and dislocated elbow. Ivanovich was still unconscious, and she could read the worried expressions on the faces of his partners. 

Ignoring Heero’s and Lowell’s requests that she stay in the relative shelter of the cockpit with Howard, she’d insisted on helping treat the wounded; though her help had consisted mainly of holding hands and supplies while the Preventers did most of the work. For the first time, she considered that maybe she should have learned first aid as well as politics.

Most of the seats on the shuttle, with the exception of the middle rows, could be converted to sleeping couches. Trowa had collapsed into one of them almost before they’d left the debris of L2- V08997 behind. Cryswell and Frost had split the watches over their fallen companion, with Frost taking the first rest. The rest of the Preventers and Sweepers had begun treating injuries and settling the refugees in for the long trip to L6.

“Senator,” Lowell moved up behind her quietly. “You should try to sleep.”

“I— I don’t think I want to close my eyes,” She sighed. “And please, call me Relena. I’m not a Senator here.”

“Relena.” He hesitated. “You look exhausted.”

“Compared to them, I have no right to be tired,” she sighed, gesturing to where Trowa was sleeping with Heero a silent sentinel by his side. “Even compared to you, I suppose. I at least slept last night.”

“It seems hard to believe we only left Sanck this morning,” he agreed, sinking down in one of the seats at her side and staring pensively at the three kids still huddled in their corner of the bulkhead. “Feels like years have passed, and it’s still only Christmas day.”

“This morning… I never dreamed that every time I close my eyes, I would watch a colony die.” She rubbed her eyes again. “You should try to rest, though.”

He laughed softly. “You think my dreams will be any easier to bear?” Lowell shook his head. “Here.” He pulled a small bottle out of his pocket. “You might as well use these, or pass them out to those who need them far worse than I do.”

She threw him a startled look as she took the bottle of sleeping pills. “This— is what Milliardo gave you this morning?”

“They were from Dr. Po, but yes.” He shrugged. “I don’t think I want to be trapped in sleep with my dreams. But some of them…” he nodded at the small clusters of refugees around them. “Some of them could use the sleep, as could you.”

“I’ll only take them if you promise to try and sleep as well.” Relena closed her fingers around the bottle. “Don’t try to match yourself to them. It’s not possible. I learned that long ago. I don’t think any of the pilots are really human, not all the time.”

“Some of them are, and those are the only ones I care to measure myself by.” He smiled lopsidedly. “Your brother and his partners taught me the folly of judging on the first impression. But they also earned my respect and I earned theirs. These four— we’ll see.”

She bit her lip, her fingers tightening around the small bottle. “The case you were on with Mil—with Zechs. It was dangerous?”

“It was a rough case,” Lowell sighed, rubbing wearily at his eyes. 

“Is he… is he okay? And Dorothy?” She tried to sound casual. “You both looked tired, and if Sally thought you would need help sleeping…”

“He’s fine. They both are.” Lowell smiled faintly. “Duo and I took the brunt of the field work. Zechs got stuck dealing with the interrogation and fallout afterwards.”

“Duo’s okay too, isn’t he?” She asked after a moment, an odd look on her face. 

“Banged up, but fine. He’ll be back in the field in a few days, probably.” 

“That’s good…” She glanced up to see him watching her closely, his expression unreadable. “He’s been good for Zechs, I think. So has Dorothy, I suppose.”

“Yeah. The three of them work well together.” Lowell rolled over suddenly, and she got the impression that he didn’t intend to say anything more about her brother or his partners. “You should try to sleep, Senator.”

* * *

Heero frowned as he picked his way carefully through the still bodies strewn about the cabin. He had managed to sleep for a few hours, curled up next to Trowa on one of the couches, but his dreams had been troubled. Finally giving up the attempt to rest, he crept silently off the couch and towards the cockpit. 

Despite the fact that he was no longer her bodyguard, old habits died hard; he found himself almost unconsciously pausing to check on Relena. She was curled up on one of the couches, and he smiled when he saw the tiny body tucked up against her side. The other two kids were tangled like puppies in a pile of blankets on the floor beside them. Lowell was dozing in the seat between Relena and the rest of the cabin, though his eyes opened when Heero paused.

“Is something wrong?” The man asked quietly, his eyes already moving about the cabin for a threat.

“No.”

“How long?”

“We’re still six hours out from L6,” Heero muttered curtly. “Go back to sleep while you can.”

“Captain.” The man nodded, but didn’t seem inclined to follow the command. Throwing him a last scowl, Heero turned to head for the cockpit. He could see Howard sleeping near the front of the shuttle, his gray hair sticking in unruly tufts from beneath a blanket. Which meant that either Quatre or Chang were now piloting the shuttle. 

He found both of them in the cockpit, though Chang was asleep at the weapon’s console. Slipping into the co-pilot’s seat, he took a quick look at the monitors.

“Couldn’t sleep?” Quatre asked quietly.

“No.” 

“Me either,” Quat muttered. “I figured flying was better than having screaming nightmares. Doesn’t really inspire confidence in one’s subordinates.”

“Hmm,” Heero sighed. 

“How’s Trowa?”

“Dead to the world.” He allowed himself a small smile, hiding it from his friend out of habit more than anything else. “Like Chang is.” 

“Yeah.” Quatre threw him a small glance. “I’m sorry…”

“It wasn’t your fault that the Colony was destroyed, Quatre.” 

“I— I know that. But I’m sorry, to make Trowa have to fly when I— locked up.”

Heero paused, not sure how to respond. For the first time, he wished Maxwell were with them. He talked too much sometimes, but he also always seemed to know what to say when the weight of the war and their own actions became too heavy. The silence dragged out between them, as he struggled to think of what he should say. Comforting others, even other pilots, was not his strong suit.

“We wouldn’t expect you to fire on a colony, Quat,” he finally managed. “We’re no longer fighting a war. Wanting to preserve lives now is not a crime.”

“Aren’t we?”

“What?” Heero threw him a puzzled look.

“If Trowa was right, and the colony control rooms were being sabotaged, then what happened to that colony was not an accident. It was an act of war. We just don’t know who our enemy is yet.”

“It doesn’t matter.” Heero growled. “We’ll find out, and then we’ll take the war to them.”

“I hope we have that option.” Quatre frowned absently. “So far, they seem to be a step ahead of us.” He hesitated. “I can’t help feeling that something… something very bad is waiting for us.”

“On L6?”

“I… I don’t know.” Quatre sighed. 

“It doesn’t matter,” Heero replied. “If something is there, we’ll face it. Just like we were trained to do.”

“Yes, but my training didn’t seem to extend to evacuating Colonies… only to destroying them.”

“So we’ll do what Duo always did, and wing it.” Trowa slipped into the seat behind Quatre with a sigh. “After all, we have Heero with us. What more do we need?”

“It’s not knowing that answer that worries me.” Quatre forced a smile, and turned his attention back to the controls in front of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is probably the last chapter I will get to post until Sunday, what with hordes of relatives arriving for Thanksgiving. I am hoping to eke out a little time to work on chapter 34, but I am also not holding my breath that it is going to happen. 
> 
> The good news is, I am about 2/3 of the way through the 5th chapter of new stuff, and I really think there are at most 5-6 chapters left to write after that. I might be wrong, or it just might be a monster chapter like in Damnation. We'll see. A few things have popped up this time around that I hadn't expected or intended in the original outline, so I am trying to make everything fit to end up at the same place.


	25. Friends Like These

Lowell stared out the shuttle window at the stars. For all their cold beauty, he found himself wishing he were looking at them on his way back to Earth. It was hard, he mused silently, to imagine that less than three days ago his main concern had been to draw out a serial killer with a monkey fetish. Now he was here, far from anything familiar and trapped on crowded shuttle with no less than four ex-gundam pilots and the former Queen of the World.

“Robert.” As if his thoughts had drawn her to him, Relena sat down in the seat across from him and held out a protein bar. 

“Lowell,” he answered quietly as he took the food, glancing around to see that everyone conscious enough to eat had already been given a breakfast of sorts. The three kids were still in their nest of blankets near his feet. The eldest still looked wary, but the younger ones had relaxed enough to respond when Relena had led the only other child on board the shuttle towards them. They were playing some sort of game, and had even managed to coax a few tentative smiles out of the younger, heavily bandaged child. 

“What?” She blinked in confusion, and he realized she was afraid of having offended him.

“Call me Lowell,” he said with a faintly rueful smile. “Only my grandmother calls me Robert.” The mention of his grandmother brought the members of Purgatory to mind, and he found himself wishing once again to be back in Sanck with them.

“Lowell.” She nodded. “But only if you call me Relena.”

“I’ll try, Senator.” Lowell laughed softly at the annoyed scowl on her face before she realized he was teasing her. 

After a moment, she smiled as well. “Well, I see working with Zechs’ hasn’t cost you your sense of humor yet.”

“No,” he shrugged, then frowned to see the old Sweeper staring at him in something like surprise. “Not yet.”

“You work with Zechs?” Howard asked, his cup of coffee forgotten in one hand as he sat down near them. “You must have been the backup, then, on this last case?”

“Yes.” Lowell tensed slightly, keeping his expression blank with an effort. It had taken only a few weeks at Preventers HQ to figure out that the members of Purgatory were pariahs to the rest of their fellow agents. Other than Dr. Po and Commander Une, no one spoke to them directly, but a great many rumors spread in their wake. He expected the curse would extend onto him as soon as it was known he was officially part of their team. 

As for the three Homicide agents, they ignored their fellows as if they were the only three agents in the city. The attitude had annoyed him when he first joined the Preventers. After working with Dorothy in Geneva, he couldn’t really blame the three for enforcing their isolation; and to be fair, they had accepted him into their ranks surprisingly easily considering the opinions of most of their fellow Preventers. Since the mission to Geneva, he’d based many of his opinions of his fellow agents on their behavior towards the Homicide division. He’d also learned to hold his silence in discussions about them, and was kicking himself for speaking of Zechs even as much as he had.

“Interesting,” Howard grinned. “I see you survived the experience, though. Congratulations.”

Lowell shrugged. “Is that such a surprise?” To his surprise, Howard looked more pleased than upset at his somewhat hostile tone.

“Not at all.” The old man took sip of coffee. “I’m glad they finally realized they need more partners that can still hold a gun.” 

Lowell froze, wondering just what the man knew about the members of Purgatory. Beside him, Relena was staring at both of them in confusion. He forced himself to relax a little, taking a bite of his own breakfast to avoid having to respond.

“We’re less than an hour out from L6,” Trowa said quietly, as he, Heero and Quatre emerged from the cockpit to join them. “Howard, can those of your people that aren’t injured take care of refueling the shuttle while we escort the others to the medical center?”

The old man frowned, glancing around to where the other seven sweepers were sitting nearby listening quietly. At the nod from one of them, Howard sighed. “We can handle that, I suppose.”

“Thanks, Howard.” 

“Though even an incomplete colony like L6 should have dock crews to handle that sort of thing.”

“You would think,” Quatre muttered, scowling down at his boots. 

The old man stared at them for a moment. “What’s wrong?”

“We— don’t know yet.” Heero, surprisingly, was the one to answer that question. To Lowell’s surprise, the three moved a little closer, dropping their voices so that none of the rescued colonists could hear the conversation. “Probably nothing.”

“But?” Howard pressed. 

“But we can’t actually reach anyone on L6, right now.”

“What?” Howard blinked, then looked from one to the other of the pilots in surprise.

“It’s probably just a problem with the communication array,” Quatre sighed. “We’re picking up the beacons just fine, so it’s not that the station is gone or anything. We just can’t hear any radio chatter, and there was no response to our initial docking announcements. But we can talk to Ahmed, so the problem isn’t on our end either.”

“That doesn’t sound promising,” Howard muttered. “What the hell is going on out here?”

“We should know in an hour,” Heero said grimly. “But now that we know the colonies have been systematically sabotaged, I think we should consider L6 to be hostile territory until we know why they aren’t responding.”

“I would personally prefer to know what’s going on before we get there,” Howard growled. “Too bad we don’t have anyone here that can still see the future.” He threw the three ex-gundam pilots an odd look, then looked at Lowell and sighed. 

“Speaking of seeing the future,” Quatre frowned slowly. “That is something that’s been bothering me. How the hell did Catalonia know there was going to be a second explosion? And what was she doing on the line in the first place?”

Lowell winced as the last bite he’d taken of his breakfast lodged uncomfortably in his throat. The members of Purgatory had not actually told him anything about why Dorothy was with them, but he had been able to make a few guesses since the night Duo had collapsed in the alley. He hadn’t forgotten the fact that she’d pressed the two grenades into his hand as he and Duo were leaving for the streets that last night. And two weeks of oddly stilted conversations had begun to make an odd sort of sense to him now. 

Howard choked on his coffee, then yelped as the hot drink drenched his pants leg and soaked into the hem of his bright Hawaiian shirt. 

“Howard!” Relena moved quickly to help him blot up the mess. “Are you okay?”

“Just getting old, dear,” He sighed, though Lowell could see the odd tension in the old man as he moved. “Never used to be this clumsy, especially around such an attractive young lady.”

Now all three former gundam pilots were staring at the Sweeper.

“Howard?” Trowa asked cautiously. “Are you okay?”

“Fine, fine… what were we talking about?”

“Dorothy Catalonia’s rather timely saving of our asses.” The tall pilot seemed to have picked up on the tension in both Howard and Lowell, and his green eyes were traveling slowly from one to the other. 

“Oh, right. That,” Howard sighed. “No big mystery there.” 

“Then perhaps you’d like to share it with us?” Quatre said coldly. “I myself found it rather odd.”

“Only because it was Dorothy that saved your boyfriend’s life,” Howard snorted. “She’s been assisting the sweepers with a side project— debugging a new computer since Yuy here’s been a little occupied with riots. Melvin was relaying readings from the colony to her computer, since none of us really had the time to spare to keep an eye on them. No doubt, she noticed energy spikes like those that kept showing up in Quadrant Two.”

“No doubt,” Trowa said slowly, as Lowell forced himself to relax. “That is the only reasonable explanation, since she’s been on Earth this whole time, and couldn’t possibly have planted explosives in the control room.”

“I wouldn’t put it past her to have tried,” Quatre muttered harshly, and Lowell could feel himself tensing again as he tried to restrain the desire to punch the blond pilot; despite knowing that that would have been a suicidal move, and undoubtedly his last. To his surprise, Relena put a hand on his shoulder silently. 

“Quat,” Trowa growled, “she’s a Preventer now. Save the anger for our enemies.”

“She _is_ my enemy. It’ll take more than a uniform to change her into a decent human being.” 

“Not that you would notice anyway,” Lowell snarled, standing up with a scowl for the blond. “For someone with a functioning set of eyes, you have to be the blindest person I’ve ever had the misfortune to meet. If you will excuse me, Senator?” He turned away without waiting for a response, only to freeze as her hand tightened painfully on his shoulder.

“Quatre Raberba Winner…” Relena’s voice was ice cold, but seemed to contain none of the restraint that he was trying desperately to hold onto. He couldn’t help looking back at her in surprise. “I understand you and Dorothy do not like each other. However, she is my friend, and I would prefer that you not speak of her so— especially since she is not here to defend herself.”

Quatre flinched slightly, and then seemed to realize that he had made the comment in front of Dorothy’s partner as well.

“I apologize,” he finally admitted grudgingly. “I was being unprofessional.”

“You were being a prick.” Relena rolled her eyes, pushing past Lowell to head for the back of the shuttle. After a moment, Lowell followed her, though he waited until his back was to them again to grin at her words. Ignoring the four sets of eyes on his back, he followed Relena towards the back of the shuttle, where a wide-eyed Frost had been avidly watching the scene. 

“Well, that was unpleasant,” Relena sighed, as Lowell leaned wearily against the wall. “Though I’ve been saying the same damn thing to myself for weeks now, and it was nice to actually say it out loud to someone else.”

He grunted noncommittally.

“I suppose you’ve heard that sort of thing a lot, being her partner?”

“Yes.” Lowell sighed, looking at her ruefully. “Thank you, by the way. If I’d tried to say that, I probably would have just punched him.”

“And gotten yourself killed for your trouble,” Howard said as he moved over to join them. Trowa was speaking quietly to several of the Preventers, but Heero and Quatre had vanished into the cockpit.

“That thought had occurred to me also.”

“I hadn’t realized it had gotten so bad,” Relena said sadly. “Is it—do people feel that way about M…about Zechs?”

“They don’t have a lot of friends,” Lowell admitted slowly. “Mostly, they ignore what people say about them.”

“And are you a friend?” Howard asked, eyeing Lowell over the top of his sunglasses. 

“I like to think so. Now, anyway.” He shrugged a little. “Not when we first met, though.” Lowell glanced up. “Are you?”

“I suppose I do qualify,” Howard grinned. 

“Don’t let him fool you.” Relena rolled her eyes again, before heading back for her seat. “He’s the closest thing to a father Duo’s ever had.”

“Thank you for answering that question back there.” Lowell eyed the older man evenly once they were alone. “I was trying to think of something plausible.”

“Well, I could hardly tell them the whole truth.” Howard frowned. “I assume you do _know_ the truth, being their partner and all?”

“Some of it,” Lowell admitted. “I don’t know a lot, but I know enough to understand your comment about partners that can no longer hold guns.”

Some of the tension left the old man. “Good. I rather thought you’d gotten that one. So how’s my boy?”

“Your boy?”

“Duo. She wasn’t kidding about him being family to me.” The old man chuckled. “But last time I stopped by to see him, he was out in the field with you.”

“He’s alright.” Lowell rubbed his head wearily, beginning to wish he knew a little more about his partners’ interactions with this group. “We both got a little banged up, but we got the bad guys, so it was worth it.”

“I thought you were walking a little stiffly earlier.”

“Bullet graze.” Lowell shrugged. “Duo had—mostly bruises.”

“Mostly?” One gray eyebrow arched. “What aren’t you telling me, boy?”

“What isn’t my business to tell.”

“Ah. Then I’m assuming he touched something he shouldn’t have?” Howard sighed. “And you’re right. That is something that should not be discussed here, not with so many ears to hear.”

Lowell just stared at him in surprise, then nodded

“Well. Since they obviously trust you enough to share a few secrets, then I will trust that you are telling me the truth about Duo’s condition.”

“He was tired but well enough, when I saw him a day ago.”

“Thanks.” Howard paused. “And don’t worry too much about those four. Trowa is a good man to have at your back, and much as I hate to admit it, the others are all good at what they do. They just have the people skills of a yak that’s been dead for four days.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Lowell grinned ruefully.

* * *

Wufei raised one eyebrow as Quatre slammed into the co-pilot’s seat, a scowl on his face.

“Something the matter?” 

“No.” 

“Ah.” Wufei glanced over his shoulder to see Heero slipping into the seat behind Quatre. “So what happened?”

“Quatre just got into an argument with Relena, Howard and Lowell.” Heero shrugged. 

“It was not an argument,” Quatre growled. 

“So what was the non-argument about?” 

“Whether or not Dorothy Catalonia has any redeeming qualities,” Heero answered calmly, with the first traces of a smirk on his lips. “It would appear that she and Relena have made peace, anyway.”

“Ah.” Wufei shook his head. “I might have guessed it had something to do with her.”

“Any luck getting through to someone at the colony?” Heero asked, changing the subject as he slipped the headset on.

“Nothing so far. Just that damn beacon.”

“Odd.”

Wufei just grunted an affirmative. “You don’t suppose there’s any way to get hold of the diagrams and schematics for this station before we get there?”

“Howard might be able to manage that. Why?” Quatre snapped out of his sulk to focus on the problem at hand.

“It might be a good idea to figure out the fastest route to the medical center— and the control room— before we get there.” Wufei glanced back at Heero. “Have Trowa take a look at them. It certainly helped at the… at L2-V08997.”

“Right.” The headset landed on the console with a clatter as Heero vanished back out of the cockpit.

“So.” Wufei glanced back over at his lover. “How did the subject of Catalonia come up, anyway?”


	26. House of the Long Shadows

Duo woke slowly. It took him several minutes to realize that he had woken on his own, with no one thrashing in the grip of a nightmare, or trying to wake him from one. That alone was decidedly odd, and he lay with his eyes closed for a long moment savoring the feeling. 

“I could get used to this,” he murmured softly, curling closer to the warm body at his back. 

“Good,” Zechs whispered back, just as softly. After a moment, his arm tightened around Duo’s waist and pulled him even closer. “I certainly intend to.”

Finally opening his eyes, Duo grinned to himself, then squirmed around to face his partners. Dorothy was still asleep, her head resting in the curve of Zechs’ right shoulder. Duo mirrored the position sleepily

“As long as you don’t expect to get the middle every single night,” Duo said as he poked him. 

“It was my idea.”

“So?”

“If you two don’t shut up, there isn’t going to be a middle,” Dorothy growled, dragging the blanket over her head. “Cause you’ll both be sleeping on the couch.”

“Sorry Doro,” Zechs kissed the top of her head, and grinned as two blue eyes glared blearily up at him. “Go back to sleep.”

“M’wake now… what time is it?” She shoved two shades of blonde hair out of her face, then closed her eyes again.

“Don’t know. Don’t care.” Duo reached out to tangle his fingers in the loose blond hair. “You guys are going to be Siamese twins soon.”

“All the more reason to stay in bed for as long as possible,” Zechs sighed. “I suppose now you’re going to rub it in that you bothered to braid your mess of hair and we didn’t.”

“Would I do that?” Duo smirked at his companions.

“In a heartbeat,” Dorothy sighed. “This is nice though.”

“It is,” Zechs murmured softly. 

“Someone is getting spoiled.” Duo raised himself up on one elbow and grinned down at the older man. 

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” Zechs tightened the arm he still had around Duo’s waist, and pulled him back down to his chest. 

“No, not at all.”

 

* * *

Trowa looked away from Heero’s laptop with a sigh as Quatre and Heero began dividing the remaining passengers in the shuttle into two groups: those staying with the shuttle, and those who would be making the trek through the colony to the medical bay. 

After spending most of the last hour memorizing schematics for the new colony, Trowa wasn’t sure that having any of them leave the relative safety of the shuttle was a good plan. The colony itself, while finished enough to house nearly two hundred workers and craftsmen, was practically deserted otherwise. The only reason that the inauguration was taking place while it was still in the process of being built was for the political and social impact that opening a new colony exactly one year after the end of the war would have on the citizens of the UESN. 

The colony currently had only one functioning Hangar bay, and three quarters of the ring were still sealed and empty. The fourth quarter held the few buildings that had been erected in the ring, including a hotel where most of the Senators would have stayed. 

The medical center as well as the main living quarters for the construction crew, were located inside the core. Fortunately, the medical ward was close enough to the ring that the trip there would not be as arduous as what they’d already undertaken on the other colonies. It was the possibility, depending on what they found on the colony, of having to travel all the way to the control room that had him worried.

“Ok, we have fourteen injured seriously enough to need to go to the medical bay immediately.” Heero glanced around the shuttle with a preoccupied frown. “The rest have only minor injuries. Until we have more information on what is waiting for us on the colony, they will stay here with the sweepers. Howard, you’re in charge. I want this shuttle ready to leave again immediately.”

“Understood.” The older man sighed. “What about the Maganac shuttle?”

“They have fewer injured on board,” Heero shrugged. “But there are only eight Maganacs, seven Preventers and three Sweepers on that shuttle, plus another seventeen colonists.”

“I don’t like this,” Trowa muttered, glancing back down at the schematics. “We don’t know what’s waiting for us on that station.”

Heero glanced at him questioningly. 

Trowa shrugged. “I think we should look around first, before anyone else sets a foot on that deck. Howard and the sweepers can refuel and get the ships ready while we take a look around. Then, if everything checks out, we find vehicles to transport the injured and make our way to the Medical Center then.”

“You think this is a trap?” Quatre frowned at the schematics.

“I don’t know what to think—except that I don’t think we should head straight for the medical center, especially not with a large number of injured.” Trowa turned the laptop around to face them. “Once we leave the Hangar Bay, we have to cross an open expanse of Quadrant One. There are minimal buildings or cover until we get here. It’s another three kilometers to the entrance to the core and Medical. We’ll be completely exposed when we cross the ring.”

“If Ahmed’s men can take them to the med center, we can look around. It would be more efficient to do both at the same time,” Quatre mused, frowning at the schematics.

“And if there is a threat there, you’ll be scattered,” Howard shook his head. “It will take us an hour to refuel and another hour to do full checks on both ships. And if you four are going to be out there stirring up trouble, I’d just as soon the rest of the Maganacs and Preventers were here watching our backs while we do so.”

“Who said anything about stirring up trouble?” Trowa hid his grin at Quatre’s petulant frown.

“Hm. Four ex-Gundam pilots on a recon mission into possibly hostile territory? The only thing that could make trouble truly inevitable—”

“—is five ex-Gundam Pilots,” Trowa finished for him. “Plus Melvin and his alcohol supply.”

“Thank the gods for small miracles.” Howard shook his head. “But I have a feeling that the four of you will be enough this time.”

Heero scowled thoughtfully, and Trowa could read the conflict in his eyes. “We can’t afford to take the time to search the entire colony first. While no one is in critical condition, there are several injured very seriously, including Ivanovich.” He sighed. “The sooner we reach the medical center, the sooner we can get everyone back to the ship.”

“Can we at least check out the hanger? Perhaps find transportation?”

Heero hesitated again, then nodded shortly. “Quatre, have Ahmed and his men get the injured ready to move as soon as we clear the hanger. Trowa, have Crowley and Hawes go with them. Lowell will stay here with Relena and the sweepers.”

“Four minutes to dock.” One of the sweepers currently serving as co-pilot leaned out of the cockpit. “I think you guys might want to come take a look at the hanger though.”

Howard and Heero looked grimly at each other, and then both headed for the cockpit. As soon as he’d given his orders to Crowley, Trowa followed. 

When he squeezed into the small space, it was to find the others staring at the vidscreen images of four ships docked in the small hangar. There was no sign of damage; from the lights along the active quadrant, power was still functioning within the colony. But nothing else was moving, no shuttles, no construction suits— nothing.

“Chang, did you try raising one of those ships?” Heero frowned.

“Yes.” Wufei shook his head. “No one is responding.”

“Take us into Bay 7.” Howard pointed at an empty section of docking berths, separated from the other ships in the hanger by a stretch of empty docks. “Have Ahmed take Bay 8.”

“Why those two?”

“They’re close together, and nearer to the hangar entrance to the ring. It might save a little time on the trek— and I don’t trust this. It’s too damn quiet.”

“Let’s go,” Heero growled. “Howard— take her in. Chang, we’re heading into the hangar as soon as we hit dock.”

“Suited?”

“I think so, at least until we have a better idea of what the situation is in there.”

Wufei quickly changed places with Howard, leaving the final approach to the two Sweepers.

“Be careful in there,” Howard threw them a last glance. “I _still_ don’t want to have to tell Duo you all got dead.”

“Take care of this shuttle,” Heero growled. “At the first sign of trouble—get Relena off this colony.”

Howard just grunted at them, already engaged in lining up the shuttle with the bay; a task that was all the more difficult without docking assistance from the colony hangar crews.

* * *

The hanger was eerily deserted, a sharp contrast to the chaos and crowds in L2-V08997. However, there was no sign of damage and all the lights were on, a fact that did not reassure any of them in the least. Trowa shivered as he followed Heero out of the docking tube and onto the deck. Behind them, Quatre muttered something in Arabic as the four gathered on the deserted deck. The blond studied the sensor in his hand grimly for a moment, then sighed. 

“Air pressure is normal, and so is the oxygen level. The colony hasn’t vented.”

Heero frowned, then nodded sharply. “Quat, you and Chang check out the other ships. Trowa and I will find the dock offices. The lights are on, so computers should be operational. We meet at the ring entrance in fifteen minutes.”

“Right.” Quatre and Wufei headed to their left, towards the bays where the four ships were docked. Turning away from them, Trowa looked up at the large observation windows lining the inner walls of the hangar. The dock offices were one level up, among the windows that looked down over the expanse of bays.

“Ahmed, Crowley—get the injured ready to move, but I don’t want anyone but Howard’s team off that shuttle until we give the word.”

/”Understood, Captain.”/ 

Taking a deep breath, Trowa headed across the deck towards the far side of the cavernous space. The only sound he could hear was the soft thud of Heero’s footsteps in his wake. They moved cautiously across the open deck, unable to tell if any observers stood behind the dark reflective glass above them. Behind them, two of the Sweepers in borrowed suits emerged cautiously from the shuttle and began to manually attach the fuel umbilical to the shuttle.

/”No bodies,”/ Wufei reported, as he reached the first of the docking tubes and peered up it warily, gun in hand. /”Hatches are open. Bay and ship are both pressurized.”/

”So where is everyone?” Trowa growled as he found the nondescript entrance to the stairwell leading to the offices. Pushing the door open warily, he craned his head cautiously to look up the stairs. Heero moved to peer over the railing of the lower staircase. The door closed behind them with a hollow thunk as Trowa stepped warily onto the first step.

“Watch for traps,” Heero said grimly. ”Quatre, you picking up anything?”

/”No.”/ There was a grim note to the blonde’s voice. /”Nothing yet. I can’t feel anyone.”/

”Keep trying.” 

/”Yuy… the refueling pumps have been shut down. You guys are going to have to manually turn them back on if we’re going to get these ships back off this dock.”/ Howard’s voice wafted over the com system. 

“Understood.” Heero met Trowa’s eyes with a grimace that was visible through the helmet he wore. “Where are the controls?”

“Down two levels. Beneath the hangar.” Trowa stepped back down to the landing. “Looks like the upper level is yours. I’ll get the fuel turned back on for Howard.”

“Be careful.”

“You too, Heero. I’ll meet you upstairs or at the ring.”

Trowa began a cautious descent into the lower levels of the hangar as Heero started up the staircase above him. While he was grateful that they didn’t have to maneuver solely by wristlight, the absolute silence and stillness on the colony was making his skin crawl. 

Even worse was the feeling of being completely alone. It hadn’t been so bad while he could see the suited forms of his friends, but the feeling of isolation was nagging at him now, and he could feel the nightmarish images of floating alone in space building up behind his eyes. Forcing them back with a growl, he concentrated on his surroundings and the faintly muffled echo of Heero’s footsteps in the stairwell above him. 

/”Tro?”/ The concern in Heero’s voice was obvious. /”What’s wrong?”/

“I’m fine,” he muttered through gritted teeth. “Just wishing Duo and his music collection were here right now. It’s too damn quiet.”

/”Yeah.”/ There was a note of rueful surprise in Heero’s voice. /”I’m beginning to understand his need for noise on occasion. Though he still takes it to extremes most of the time.”/

”Sometimes.” Trowa stopped outside the fire door at the bottom of the staircase and studied the locking mechanism briefly. ”I’m at the entrance to the pump station. Howard— don’t they normally keep these locked?”

/”Yeah. That’s not an area you want just anyone wandering into anytime they feel like it. You’ll have to hack into the control pad itself to bypass the locking mechanism.”/

“No need.” Trowa tightened gloved fingers around the comforting weight of his gun. 

/”What?”/ Howard sounded uneasy. /”Why?”/

“Cause this one is unlocked.” Flattening to the wall as much as possible, he reached out to lay a gloved hand on the heavy door. “Heading in.”

/”Understood. Stay in touch. And be careful,”/ Heero growled. 

”Watch your own back, Heero.” He rolled his eyes. Like he was going to get distracted here. The colony felt wrong—and he wanted nothing more than to head back to the shuttle. _Turn the pumps on first, idiot,_ he told himself firmly, _or there won’t be any reason to go back to the shuttle._

Taking a moment to prepare himself, he cautiously pushed the door open and slipped quickly inside, gun swinging to cover the vast room. Though the lights were still on, there were fewer of them. Long shadows filled the far edges of the room and left pockets of darkness between the large fuel tanks. Forcing down his unease, he headed for the control console on the far wall. 

* * *

Heero found himself oddly tempted to abandon his own mission as he listened to the fading sounds of Trowa’s footsteps in the empty stairwell. Shaking his head with another grimace, he forced himself to start up the stairs toward the main dock offices. 

He paused at the top of the stairs for a moment, before pushing open the door cautiously and emerging into a long hallway. To his right were several of the observation windows looking down over the hangar. He could see the two Sweepers working to connect the ship to the fuel pumps. At Ahmed’s ship were two more suited figures working on the same task. Nothing else stirred in the empty hangar. 

To his left, were a series of doors leading to the main docking hangar control rooms. He moved carefully to the first one and slipped inside. And found nothing. There were no bodies, no blood— no signs of struggle at all. But there were also no people, a direct violation of protocol with ships docked in the hangar. 

/”Heero?”/

“It’s clear,” He muttered, frowning as he turned to study the room again. “Nobody home.”

/”Watch yourself. Something is really not right here.”/

He didn’t bother to answer, just moved toward the main computer console. The computer was on; who ever had been using it last had not bothered to log out before abandoning his post either. A cup of coffee, long cold and with a skin growing over the top was on the desk in front of it, along with a half-eaten bagel. The only thing in the entire office that looked out of place was a handheld datapad lying on the floor in front of the main window, mostly hidden behind the secondary tracking console. He picked it up, and the screen shifted quickly from standby mode to active to reveal a roster of ships that had been in the dock over the last two weeks. 

Tucking the pad into his belt pouch, he turned back to the computer instead. The colony readouts were showing green across the board. Typing in commands was awkward in the suit's heavy gloves, and he sighed as he began running systems checks.


	27. Welcome to Roanoke

Une stared at the computer screen in front of her, hoping that the pattern she was seeing was only residual paranoia left over from the war, and not the very real danger she feared. 

“Une?” Sally placed a cup of coffee on her desk and slumped into the chair across from her. “It’s barely six in the morning. Have you even left this office to eat since yesterday?” 

Lady Une blinked, then glanced half guiltily at the mostly untouched plate of food on the corner of her desk. For a long moment, she couldn’t remember when she’d gone to the cafeteria to get it. “I have. At least— I think so.” She rubbed her eyes wearily. “And I have to say, you don’t look much better.”

Sally started to protest, then apparently thought better of it and merely shrugged. “I haven’t been sleeping well the last few nights.”

“The Harbor murders? Or L2?”

“Yes. To both.” Sally shivered. “As for their last case, let’s just say that if that’s the kind of thing they usually deal with, I’m beginning to understand why the Homicide department always looks on the brink of collapse.”

Une glanced up at her in surprise, worried by the hollow tone in Sally’s voice. “How bad was it? I have been paying more attention to the situation in space, frankly. But since Robert Lowell didn’t rush into my office the minute the case was solved, requesting a transfer to another city to get away from them, I figured it couldn’t have been too terrible.” 

“It was— bad.” Sally said nothing more for a long moment. “I don’t know how they do what they do— but without Zechs’ team, we never would have solved that one. And a lot more innocent people would have died.” 

“I’m sensing a _but—_ ”

“But eventually they are going to burn out. Even they can’t keep up this pace for long.” Sally frowned. “They may have unique abilities, but they won’t do us much good dead from exhaustion.”

“What do you suggest I do?” Une asked grimly. “Every Preventers department is stretched thin. It’s only been a year since the war ended, and the Preventers were formed. What remains of local police units cannot handle the monumental task of restoring order and maintaining peace, and that has fallen to us as well.”

“At least stop expecting three people to do the jobs of eight,” Sally sighed, obviously trying to choose her words carefully. “They are only human. And even they need help sometimes. Something that may be a fool’s hope now.”

“I know they aren’t the easiest agents to work with, or the most popular…”

“It’s gone well beyond that,” Sally said grimly. “I’ve been hearing more rumors in the halls. It was hard enough to find anyone who would act as backup for them before. It’s going to be nearly impossible now. They’re known as the Spook Squad— and that’s without anyone else knowing about some of their more unusual talents. If word of that gets out, and it will once Maxwell goes back into the field with the forensics team—”

“In that case, I suppose it’s a good thing that Lowell put in a transfer request, asking to be assigned permanently to the homicide department,” Une said quietly, more than a little disturbed by the breadth of the gap between the three agents, and the rest of the Preventers. She hadn’t realized that things had gotten quite so bad.

Sally rolled her eyes. “And how exactly is that helping, when he’s at the far side of the colonies on bodyguard duty for Relena?” 

“I know,” Une sighed. “But I didn’t have much choice. Relena is too important to the peace to risk.”

“Then I suggest you either find a permanent replacement for Donatello, or call Yuy back from L3 and reassign him to duty as her bodyguard.” Sally nearly smiled at the shocked look on Une’s face before continuing. “All I’m saying is that you can’t keep asking them, Lowell included, to drop everything to baby-sit Relena. Or to cover the cases that would normally have gone to the other pilots instead. Besides, you sent her on a shuttle with two Gundam pilots on it. How much more protection did you think she needed?” 

Une stared at her for a moment, then sighed. “You’re right. I— those damn nightmares— I haven’t been thinking clearly.” She looked back at the computer monitor for a long moment, leaving Sally to wonder what she was seeing. “But you might also be wrong about how much protection she needs right now.”

“What?” Sally blinked, looking surprised. “Why? The danger is over now, right? They should be reaching L6 any time now…”

Une sighed, not sure whether to laugh or cry. “The shuttles docked with the colony twenty minutes ago.”

“Une?” Sally leaned forward, watching her worriedly. “Has something else—”

“Gone wrong?” Une finished wearily, rubbing her eyes and waving Sally into her normal seat. “You might say that, yes.”

“What happened?”

“L6 is apparently deserted.” 

“What?” 

Lady Une ignored Sally’s gasp. “I got a report from Howard right before you came in. The pilots are searching the hangar and administration offices as we speak. So far, they have not reported any bodies or signs of violence. There’s just— no one home.”

“Have the escape pods launched?”

“No. And there are four empty ships docked in that hangar. No breaches, no signs of foul play. The emergency seals were not activated.”

“That’s—that’s not possible. Two hundred people don’t just vanish off a colony, leaving their ships behind.”

“I’ve been going over Yuy’s reports from the L3 riots. Just from those three colonies that experienced rioting— we’re getting reports that nearly three hundred people are missing and presumed dead. Except that we have not recovered anywhere _close_ to that many bodies.”

“But you said there were no signs of violence on L6.” 

“Not that they’ve found yet,” Une shrugged. “So far they haven’t gone beyond the hangar itself.”

“I don’t like this…”

“Neither do I,” Une frowned grimly. “It seems just a little too coincidental that Senator Peacecraft, the head of the Sweepers and four out of the five Gundam Pilots, one of whom is the co-CEO of Winner Enterprises, are stranded on a deserted colony on the far side of nowhere…”

“At the same time the majority of Preventers ships we had in space right now, as well as the entire Sweeper fleet, are tied up with the disaster at L2,” Sally finished the thought. “You think this is a trap?”

“I don’t know. But if it is… whoever set it is likely to make a devastating haul.”

“Why haven’t you ordered them off that colony then?”

“According to Howard, it’s going to take two hours to get the shuttles refueled and ready to launch. He also pointed out that it might take nearly that long to hack the launch codes for the abandoned ships. I’ve dispatched the entire remaining complement of Preventers from L4 as backup, but the nearest of those Preventer ships to them are still nearly eight hours out.”

“What about one of the ships from L2?”

“Even if we could spare a ship from L2 instead, it would take nearly the same amount of time to get there.” 

“So—what do we do now?”

“We wait.” Une shook her head, tilting her computer screen towards Sally. “And in the meantime, look at this and tell me if you see a pattern forming.”

* * *

Trowa looked around cautiously, wishing that the control console for the fuel pumps had been placed much closer to the door. The silence and shifting shadows from the few lights in the room were beginning to make his skin crawl. 

“It’s just the dark,” he muttered to himself. “Everyone is afraid of the dark.”

/”Trowa?”/ Quatre’s voice asked over the comlink, sounding worried. /”What’s wrong?”/

“Nothing. Just remembering a conversation I had with Duo about his love of horror movies,” Trowa shook his head. “Have you found anything yet?”

/”No.”/ He could hear the tension in Quatre’s voice; and the guilt.

“Quat, this was _not_ your fault.”

/”I should have left _all_ of the Maganac Corps here, when we had to leave for L4…”/

“And if you had— we would have lost even more of the population of that colony.” Trowa scowled inside his helmet. “And they might all be missing now.”

/”Trowa, have you found the pump switch yet?”/ Heero interrupted, sounding uneasy.

“I’m almost there. Got it.” He flipped the row of switches, jumping as the rumble of machinery filled the silence. Trowa couldn’t tell if anyone else responded over the noise of the pumps. Turning quickly, he headed back for the doorway. It was past time to meet up with Heero, and start searching the rest of the colony.

* * *

Wufei paused at the mouth of the docking tube from the last ship. Looking back down the length of the hanger towards their two shuttles, it was hard to put his finger on quite what was wrong about the scene. Other than that it was just too quiet and still, he mused silently. 

As he stepped onto the dock, one of the suited sweepers gave him an exaggerated thumbs up. He waved in return, though most of his attention was on Quatre as his partner emerged from the ship next to his.

“Anything?”

/“Nothing.”/ Quatre sounded more shaken than Wufei had heard him since the final battle on Libra. /”They can’t all be dead.”/

“None of them may be dead,” Wufei growled. “They just aren’t here. We’ll find them Quat.”

/“Y-yeah.”/ Quatre moved to his side, matching him step for step as they headed across the empty hangar towards to offices where Heero and Trowa were to meet them. /”I just have a really bad feeling about this.”/

“So do I,” he muttered, shaking his head. “And I’m not an empath. So don’t get too freaked out, as Maxwell would say.”

/”Have you ever noticed just how much you quote him?”/ Trowa’s voice asked over the comlink. /”I thought you said his figures of speech annoyed you.”/

“I do not quote Maxwell.” Wufei flushed a little, and was almost grateful for the helmet concealing his face from Quatre as his lover snickered.

/”You do,”/ Quatre agreed. /”Rather frequently.”/

“If I do, and I’m not admitting any such nonsense, it’s only because of the fact that occasionally, his words do tend to hold a— fair assessment of the situation.”

/”Right,”/ Trowa muttered. /”Keep telling yourself that, Chang. God, this place is giving me the creeps.”/

/”Where are you?”/ Heero asked curtly. 

/”In the main corridor, overlooking the hangar bay— haul your asses, guys. We’re burning time here.”/

/”We’ll meet you at the main section doors to the ring in two minutes,”/ Heero growled. /”Ahmed, is your team ready to move?”/

/”Standing by, Yuy.”/

It took less than two minutes for the two ex-Gundam Pilots to reach the main doors. The emergency section seals had not been deployed—which meant that no one in the control tower had tried to stop the mass exodus of the entire population. Assuming that they weren’t simply dead and piled in a room somewhere on this colony, he reminded himself sharply as he and Quatre eyed the empty, silent streets of the colony ring. A moment later, Heero and Trowa emerged from the upper level to join them.

“Now what? Transportation? Or a further look around?” Wufei asked.

To his surprise, rather than answer, Trowa reached for the seals to his helmet.

/”What the hell do you think you’re doing?”/ Heero sounded angry, and almost frightened; though Wufei was still hesitant to apply that emotion to the Japanese man.

“We don’t have enough suits for the injured to make it to the med center— so we’d better find out sooner rather than later if it’s safe,” Trowa growled. “And I’ve had about all I can take of being in this thing.” He glared at Heero. “The air’s breathable.”

“And if it hadn’t been?” Heero asked, slowly removing his own helmet.

“Then you’d be hauling my ass back to the shuttle right about now, and no one would be heading for the medical center.” Trowa peeled off the rest of his suit, then ran a hand through sweat-damp hair. “Looks like that construction transport over there could be pressed into service for getting the more severely injured to the inner ring.”

“Let’s get this over with,” Wufei sighed, as he and Quatre shed their suits as well. “I just hope they left the keys.”

“Keys are for amateurs,” Trowa snorted, already heading for the transport.

“He lived with Duo for too damn long.” Wufei shook his head. 

“Ahmed, start moving out of the hangar. We’re working on transport for you just inside the colony itself.”

/”Understood. We’re moving out now.”/

* * *

Dorothy stepped through the door into Purgatory, relaxing once she was inside the familiar sanctuary. She’d had a year to practice ignoring her fellow agents and the silence that tended to fall upon any room she entered, as well as the snide whispers that followed her out of each room again; but now it seemed different. The whispers held a tinge of fear that she found disturbing. 

For the first time, she wondered if Une would let them set up a satellite Preventer’s office, strictly for the Homicide Unit. But as quickly as the idea occurred to her, she knew it for a futile hope. Une might wish she could forget about them, but she wasn’t about to let any of them that far off the leash. 

She slumped into her chair, automatically glancing at the computer where she had left Epyon running a scan of the records databases for leads on the newest case Une had assigned them. But to her surprise, instead of his preferred screensaver, the monitor was strobing through the color spectrum in an indication of distress.

Dorothy pressed her palm against the monitor and felt the link activate with a warm pulse. “Epyon?” 

He pulsed through the spectrum again, though the frantic pace was slowing slightly. 

“What is it?” She tried again.

**He’s coming**. The computer seemed unsure, which did not reassure her in the least. **Coming back…**

“Who’s coming?”

**_He’s_ coming. You have to stop him.**

“Epyon. Stop whom?”

A stream of images answered her, and to her shock she recognized images from her nightmares. The image of the twisted hallway was blotted out by the door as it flew outward, and then everything went dark. 

‘Epyon, that has already happened. It’s safe now.”

**He’s coming** the program insisted. **Not over—just beginning.**

“Who is coming?”

**I don’t remember.**

She shivered, suddenly feeling very cold as she tried to think of another way to ask the question. “Epyon… where is he coming from?”

**Location unknown.**

“ _What_ is just beginning?” Dorothy pressed anxiously.

**Event unknown.**

“Epyon… when is this happening?” Instead of an answer, Epyon repeated the nightmare, this time continuing on to the final scene of the bodies floating in space. She stared at the bodies of two children as they passed her view. For the first time, she realized that they had all assumed the nightmare had ended. “Is this happening now?”

**Soon.**

“Is this happening at L6?” She forced herself to remain calm as she asked the question.

The computer hesitated for a long moment. **Location is not L6. Location unknown.**

“God help us all…” she muttered. “Epyon, try to find out _where_ this is happening. If I am going to talk to Lady Une, I have to have something concrete to tell her."

**Okay Dorothy.**

*** * ***

Trowa watched as Heero moved cautiously around the corner of the hotel, then reappeared a moment later to motion for him to follow. They were in the area of the quadrant that had been constructed in preparation for the arrival of the Senators and Earth Sphere dignitaries presiding over the dedication ceremonies. The utter silence was, if possible, even more unnerving here than it had been in the hangar. 

The small cluster of buildings in the single block rose out of the center of the open quadrant, the sole relief in a vast stretch of emptiness. Nothing else had been erected yet, though streets had been laid out. Construction vehicles were parked at random, interspersed with piles of building materials and the odd rudimentary construction mobile suit. But there were only the three buildings standing. 

Looking back over his shoulder, he could see where the Preventers had abandoned the transport at the entrance to the inner ring. The group should be reaching the medical center soon. Taking a deep breath, he tried to ignore the paranoia that kept him wanting to glance over his shoulder for enemies. There was no way than anyone could sneak up on them— there was nothing blocking line of sight but the buildings they were standing outside of. Nothing was moving but the other pilots, for as far as he could see to where the colony disappeared around the curved horizons. With a sigh, he turned and followed Heero towards the entrance to the hotel. 

Once inside, they found themselves standing in an ornate, but deserted lobby. Trowa glanced at Heero questioningly, not sure whether he even wanted to suggest splitting up. The longer they spent on this colony, the less he liked it. The situation was far too similar to the horror movies he’d watched with Duo for his comfort. To his relief, Heero did not suggest splitting up either. 

“Quatre, what’s your status?” Trowa asked grimly, as Heero made his way behind the front desk and started searching through drawers. A moment later, he held up a set of master keycards with a triumphant sigh. 

/“Our building’s empty,”/ Quatre replied, his voice sounding as strained as Trowa felt. 

“We’re going to search the rooms.” Heero tossed one of the keys to Trowa as they started down the first hallway. 

/”We’re on our way in to join you,”/ Quatre started, only to be interrupted. 

/”Master Quatre!”/ Ahmed’s voice was an unusual mix of elation and panic, as he cut into the comlink. /”Master Yuy! You must come!”/ 

/”Ahmed? What happened? Where are you?”/ Quatre asked sharply. 

/”In the medical facilities. Master Quatre—It’s Auda. He’s here!”/ 

Trowa met Heero’s shocked gaze for a long moment, before both pilots headed for the door at a dead run. 


	28. Where Have All the People Gone?

“Ahmed— what’s going on?” Quatre asked breathlessly, as Heero and Trowa joined the other two pilots in the street. “Is he alive?”

/”Alive, yes,”/ Ahmed answered cautiously. /”There are three people here. But all are unconscious. So far, we can’t get any of them to wake up.”/

“Are they all Maganacs?”

/”No. Only Auda. The others appear to be construction workers.”/ 

“Is the medical equipment damaged?” Heero asked thoughtfully.

/”No. Nothing is damaged. There doesn’t appear to have been a fight here,”/ Crowley answered this time. /”All three men were injured… but I don’t think the injuries were caused by whatever happened to everyone else on this colony.”/ He hesitated, before continuing, /”According to the computer records, your friend Auda was being treated for food poisoning. The other two were in a construction accident outside the ring two days ago.”/

“Run a blood test on all three of them,” Heero ordered grimly. “See if they were drugged. We’re on our way.”

/”Yes sir.”/

The four pilots covered the distance to the inner ring in a sprint, slowing only slightly once they reached the inner hallways leading to the core. This part of the station was more finished than the colony ring, but after the vast empty distances of the outer ring, Trowa found the hallways almost reassuringly claustrophobic. 

“Status?” Heero asked as they stepped into the crowded medical lab. Trowa took a quick look around as Quatre made his way directly to the bed where Ahmed was leaning over Auda. Hawes, Cryswell, Frost and the small group of sweepers and Maganacs were busy with the injured civilians, using every available counter and bed for makeshift surgery tables while Crowley scowled down at a computer in one corner. 

“No change.” Crowley looked back at them then stepped aside to gesture at his computer monitor. “According to this, all three of them have traces of Desflurane in their blood, which would explain why we can’t wake them up.”

“What is that?” Quatre asked anxiously, his brow wrinkled in confusion. “I don’t recognize the name.”

“It’s a form of anaethesia,” Crowley shook his head. “I’m not surprised you’ve never heard of it. It hasn’t been in common usage since 2015. Though Oz had apparently dug up the formula and begun trialing it near the end of the war. But according to the computer, it can be dispersed in a vapor once it is heated to 39 C. It’s insoluble in the bloodstream though, which means it builds up quickly to induce unconsciousness.”

“Oz…” Heero scowled at the older man. “That’s who we’re up against?”

“No telling, sir,” Crowley shrugged. “It’s been a year since the war. Anyone could have found the formula to produce it since then.”

“It has to be heated before release—” Wufei moved over to the computer, displacing Crowley as he began typing in a query. “I noticed that the temperature was reading slightly higher than normal inside the ships, and the main ring of the colony itself. Could enough of this be dispersed through the air exchange to render everyone on the colony unconscious?”

“Yes sir. I thought of that as well and checked the air exchange. There are traces of Desflurane in the air, but in very minute quantities. We should be in no danger of succumbing now.”

“Heero, look at this,” Wufei nodded at the screen. “The colony’s air supply was vented six hours before we got here. The emergency life-support systems kicked in immediately, until the levels had built back up enough to cycle through the exchange filters again.”

“Six hours.” Heero shook his head and met Quatre’s eyes. “If your shuttle hadn’t been diverted by the crisis at L2, you and Relena would have been here on the Colony when this happened.”

“If it was a trap for us—why would they have triggered it when we didn’t arrive as scheduled?” Quatre shook his head. “It doesn’t feel right, Heero. Why would whoever put the Desflurane in the air supply take everyone else on this colony instead?”

“I don’t know.” Looking around at the pale, frightened colonists, Heero sighed. “But we’re not going to wait around for them to come back either. I don’t like being dependent on an air supply that has already been tampered with. I want us back on Sandstorm and Giza’s air supply before it cycles again.”

* * *

Dorothy hesitated outside Lady Une’s office; not at all sure this was a good idea. _Last chance to back out and wait for Zechs,_ she thought to herself, then took a deep breath and knocked. After a moment she heard Une’s call to enter. Steeling herself a last time, she stepped into the office. Une gestured to the seat Sally normally took, and with only a last brief hesitation, Dorothy sat down.

Neither woman spoke for a long moment. 

“What did you need to see me about?” Une finally prompted, frowning slightly.

“I— look, I know this is going to sound really crazy…”

“Just say it, Dorothy,” Une rubbed her forehead wearily. “I doubt anything you say is going to surprise me anymore.”

“I’m still— it’s still going on.” Taking a deep breath, Dorothy threw caution away and just plunged into her explanation. “I can’t explain how I know, but my nightmare is still happening. It’s not over.”

To her surprise, Une only nodded. “I wish I could truthfully say I don’t believe you. But I do.” The older woman sighed. “The situation is getting worse by the moment. Have you dreamed about L6?”

“No.” Dorothy blinked at her, a little startled by the unexpected acceptance. “It’s not… what I’m seeing is not L6.”

“Are you sure?” The time the older woman did frown. “Because that’s where the current problem is.”

“It’s not L6.” Dorothy hesitated again, reading far too much into the grim look on Une’s face. “But something has happened at L6, hasn’t it? Are Relena and the others alright?”

“At the moment,” Une frowned at her, though her expression was more troubled then disbelieving. “But there is definitely something wrong on that colony. The people are gone, Dorothy.”

“What?” For a moment, she didn’t understand what Une was trying to tell her. “What do you mean they’re gone?”

“All the construction workers and engineers building the colony, nine out of the ten Maganac’s Quatre left there to arrange security, the five Preventers that were assisting them— There were over two hundred people on that colony. So far we have found three.”

“The others are dead?”

“We have no idea. There aren’t any bodies, no signs of a fight. Nothing. The three men we have found so far, two engineers and one of Quatre’s men, were all in the medical lab, unconscious.”

“That doesn’t make sense.” Dorothy rubbed her eyes. “We… I’m sure what I’m dreaming about is not on L6.”

“What are you dreaming?”

“Bodies— a lot of bodies—floating in space.” Dorothy paled suddenly. “Unless that’s where all the people went.” She met Une’s eyes worriedly. “Were there children on L6?”

“There are now,” the older woman muttered. “But among the missing— no.”

“In my nightmare, there are children’s bodies too.”

Une swore softly under her breath, then turned away to reach for the communication console. “Howard.”

/”Une? What’s wrong?”/

“How much longer till those ships are ready to take off?”

/”Another hour, minimum. And none of the injured are back from the medical center yet.”/

“I want those ships ready to take off the minute they’re back.”

“Une— what if L6 is where they’re safe?” Dorothy asked, suddenly wondering if trying to second guess Epyon’s nightmare was only going to lead to the events she was seeing.

“Whatever is going on, I doubt that they are truly any safer on that colony than they would be in the ships.” Une shook her head. “And in ships where they can maneuver is the safest place for the Gundam Pilots.”

/”Dorothy?”/ Howard’s voice was strained. /”What’s going on? Safe from what?”/

“Howard, I’m still dreaming. It’s not over yet.” Dorothy leaned over Une’s shoulder. “Something’s going to happen out there, very soon. I don’t know where though. Or what.”

/”Bloody Hell…”/ the old man growled. /”Sanders! Get me the status on the fueling, and have Gorman start doing takeoff preps. We’re gonna be going out hot as soon as our people get back here. Tell Ahmed’s men too. Lowell, I need you in here…”/

“Thanks Howard. Be careful.”

/”Get them back to the ships, and I’ll get them off this bloody colony.”/

Une sighed and switched channels. “Yuy?”

/”Commander?”/ Trowa answered the com, rather than Heero.

“What’s your status?”

/”We’re searching the computers, but all traces of who tampered with the air supply have been wiped. Whoever did it is a damn good hacker to hide from Heero.”/

”Leave that. There are reinforcements coming from L4 to take over the investigation of L6. I want your people back on those ships, now. Howard’s prepping for takeoff, as soon as you’re loaded.”

/”Ma’am, no offense, but we’re handling this investigation,”/ Quatre growled, interrupting Trowa before he could respond.

“Not anymore,” Une snapped. “I am ordering you to get those civilians off that colony. Now.”

“Une…” Dorothy tried one last time. “I don’t think it’s going to happen there, not on L6…”

”Something has already happened on L6, Dorothy. And you didn’t see it coming either. I want them in those ships and on their way back. I trust the pilots to protect those people, but to do so they need to be where they can do the most good.” Une sighed. “Until you can tell me exactly where and when this is going to happen—this is the only course of action we can follow.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Winner, that’s an order. Evacuate that colony, immediately.”

/”Yes, ma’am.”/

* * *

Zechs glanced worriedly at Duo as they followed Sally down the alley. To the casual observer, the younger man was calm and appeared almost bored; however, Zechs was far from a casual observer. He could see the strain in Duo’s eyes as they got closer to the courtyard.

“Duo?”

“I’m fine,” Duo snapped grimly. “I have to do this.”

“You don’t have to do this.” Zechs took a deep breath. “You already passed out once. I’d rather you didn’t do it again.”

“So would I.” Sally turned towards them, halting abruptly in the middle of the alley and forcing them to stop as well. “And while I am curious about this talent of yours, both of you, we cannot afford to have either you out of commission and out of the field for another three days recovering.”

“I’m fine,” Duo glared at both of them in annoyance. “I promise. I’ll be very careful what I touch, okay?”

Zechs bit back any further comments, reading the stubborn glint in Duo’s eyes. “Alright.”

Sally sighed, but backed down as well. “Fine. But take it easy, both of you.”

“Yes mom.” Duo rolled his eyes as he brushed past her and continued down the alley. Sally glared at Zechs, who merely shrugged as he followed his partner. 

The courtyard looked much as it had when he was there two days before. There were still teams of forensics workers clustered around the open space, carefully scraping at the stains on walls and fences or picking gingerly through the trash that had accumulated against the fence. Tarps had been stretched between the buildings in an attempt to prevent the weather from removing any more evidence, which only added to the gloom, despite the bright lights that had also been added. 

He had to force himself to ignore the stench as they stepped fully into the scene of his nightmares. To his relief, there were fewer of the ghosts at the fence than there had been at his last visit to the site. Treize looked up from the blood-streaked figure he was speaking to, a strained smile on his face for Zechs, but did not break away from his work to greet his old friend. Zechs just nodded faintly at him and turned away. At his side, he felt Duo recoil slightly; almost leaning against him for a split second before shaking his head.

“That’s a smell I’m not gonna forget anytime soon…” Duo muttered, glancing around. “Place looks a lot better though, without those nuts in black running around.”

“I’m not sure I’d be making statements like that if I were you,” Sally growled. “I seem to recall that you wore nothing but black for two years.”

“Yeah, well— It worked on me.” Duo’s voice was subdued as he looked around. “Let’s get this over with, huh?”

“Right.” Sally sighed, then waved at a dour-faced man with a clipboard standing beside a table of equipment. “Albert…”

The shorthaired man glanced up, his scowl only deepening when he saw the two men with her. Zechs kept his expression neutral out of long habit, ignoring the hostility as the man left whatever task he had been doing to join them. 

“Albert, I’d like you to meet—”

“These are your experts?” The man interrupted, eyeing them doubtfully. “I thought you meant you were bringing forensics experts.”

“—Zechs Merquise and Duo Maxwell,” Sally finished with a sigh. “And they are experts on the _case._ I don’t need more forensics experts, that’s what I have _you_ for.”

The man looked slightly less annoyed at that. “What do I need experts in the case for? Their part of this is finished.”

“Maybe not.” Zechs could see Sally fighting for patience as she answered. “And you might need them more than you think.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Zechs sighed, and held out a hand to the man. Albert stared at him as if he was insane, blinking a little. “Dr…?”

“Riese,” The man muttered, though he didn’t move to shake the outstretched hand. “Why do I need them if they aren’t forensic scientists?”

“Because they are members of the Preventers new Homicide Division,” Sally growled, giving up on politeness. “And you will be working closely with them from now on.” 

“We have a Homicide division?” Albert blinked again, taking a step back. “It’s about time—and I suppose they are experts on death, both being Gundam Pilots—”

“Whatever we were before we were Preventers agents, is really beside the point.” Zechs shook his head. “Sally, I really think this is not going—”

“But this is my crime scene now, and I don’t need amateurs mucking it up.” Albert turned away with a heavy sigh. “So don’t touch anything, try not to disturb any evidence, and…”

“Albert!” All three men stared at Sally, along with most of the techs. “Stop talking for three minutes and listen to me.” 

There was a moment of stunned silence, and she didn’t waste any time before taking advantage of it, though she did lower her voice slightly so that most of the techs could not hear her. 

“Zechs and Duo are not amateurs, and they will not mess up your crime scene. I expect them to make it much easier on your techs. However, Duo at least, is going to have to touch some of the evidence. He has a talent for Psychometry, and they have inside information about where to look for said evidence. So I expect you to work with them, listen to what they have to say… and perform your usual forensic brilliance in the meantime. No fighting, no sulking and no ignoring their very existence. Is that clear?”

Zechs waited for the man to begin arguing again, but to his surprise, Dr. Riese looked more startled than angry. 

“Psychometry?” He peered at Duo. “What the hell is that?”

“It’s a psychic ability to pick up impressions from physical objects—”

Now the man looked annoyed again. “Psychics? Dr. Po, I appreciate that you’ve been working long hours lately, but as one doctor to another, I suggest you take some time off immediately. Forensic investigations take care, patience, knowledge and a great deal of training. What they don’t require is psychics running about touching things and picking up ‘vibes’. This is my crime scene now, and you can take your pet psychics and…”

“Albert.” Duo and Zechs both backed up at the tone in Sally’s voice. “I’ve been having a very bad week, and this is not making it any better. They’re staying, you are working with them, and that is final. Consider this a chance to debunk their claims if you want. I don’t care. Just get me the evidence to put the scum who murdered nearly twenty-five people here away forever, and don’t give me any more grief.”

Albert sighed, and threw the two homicide agents a sour look. “Dr. Po— Sally— I cannot believe you are seriously entertaining the notion of psychic ability. It’s never been scientifically proven as anything more than a fluke—”

“Two months ago, I might have agreed with you.” Sally rubbed her forehead wearily. “Albert, trust me on this one. They have abilities that we do not understand, but that we need right now. I would appreciate your help in figuring out the best use of those abilities.”

“You honestly believe this?” He frowned, but Zechs could see the first signs that he might be giving in.

“I do.” Sally glanced at them, then looked back at Albert. “Without their— rather unique abilities— this case and the Jameson case, and a few others— would have stayed on the unsolved list forever.”

The man looked from Duo to Zechs, then turned to Sally with a heavy sigh. “Fine, fine, they can stay.” Dismissing her with an absentminded wave, he turned back to the two members of Purgatory. “But if you haven’t been formally trained, then you’re still amateurs. Talented, but amateurs. So before you touch anything, we’re going to have a talk about forensic techniques.”

“I’ll just leave you boys to it then…” Sally smirked at the desperate glance Duo sent her, and Zechs could see the amusement on her face as she headed back towards the exit to the courtyard.


	29. Fallen Angels

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last of the previously published chapters. New stuff starts going up tomorrow, though I may not post chapters daily since I am still only about 4 chapters ahead at this point. However, I promise it will not take another 8 years to finish this thing. 
> 
> Also, I was told the first time around that this chapter pulls no punches, and is potentially traumatic. You've now been warned.

“How long— how long will it take us to get back to Earth?” Relena asked quietly in the darkened cabin. It had been nearly four hours since they’d left the silent bulk of L6 behind, the lights dimmed to allow the exhausted passengers to sleep, as well as to conserve as much power for the engines as possible. Having given up on the pretense of sleeping an hour ago, Lowell turned his eyes from the emptiness of space outside the window to where she lay, a slender lump on the adjoining couch.

“The trip from L6 to Earth would normally take about forty-six hours,” Trowa answered out of the darkness behind them. “But we did an extended burn when we left L6, to build more momentum. At our current rate of travel and with no more—unexpected detours— Howard thinks he can shave nearly eight hours off the trip.”

“That had to have used up quite a bit of fuel. Is that going to be a problem when we get back to Earth?” Lowell asked quietly.

“Shouldn’t be,” Trowa sighed. “Assuming we don’t have to pull the kind of maneuvers we did yesterday, we’ll have plenty of fuel for re-entry into Earth’s atmosphere. And if we need to, we’ll refuel at one of the L1 colonies on our way in. We’ll be in range of those in another eighteen hours.”

“It’s so empty out here.” Relena shivered.

“Right now… that might be a good thing,” Lowell frowned as he looked out the window again. Off the stubby wing and to their rear was the reassuring bulk of the second shuttle, whose continued presence he found himself verifying every few minutes.

“I’ll still be happier when we reach more populated space.”

“More populated doesn’t mean much in space,” Trowa sighed. “I’ll be happier when this shuttle and you are both safely on the ground.”

“You don’t really think this whole thing was directed at me?” She shook her head. “It just doesn’t make sense that someone would go to this much trouble to set a trap for me.”

“Whether it was directed at you or just coincidence— it doesn’t change the fact that you are in danger or that the Earth Sphere cannot afford to lose you now,” Heero growled out of the darkness.

“I am just a person— like anyone else.” 

“Relena – in a million years of trying, you could _never_ just be like anyone else.” 

Tuning out the conversation behind him, Lowell frowned as something dark rolled past the window. An indistinct shape was silhouetted briefly against the hull of Ahmed’s shuttle, before it slid out of sight behind them.

“That’s ridiculous…” Relena’s protest was cut off as proximity alarms began blaring through the shuttle. A moment later, the shuttle lurched, then banked sharply. There were a few screams as the sleeping passengers woke in a panic, followed by cursing before the shuttle began slowing noticeably. “What’s happening? Are we under attack?”

“Stay put!” Heero snapped as he and Trowa both unsnapped safety harnesses and ran for the cockpit. 

“Lowell? What’s happening? Is there—is there something out there?”

Unable to tear his eyes away from the window, he barely heard her question and it was a long moment before he could bring himself to answer it. “Yes, there’s something out there.” Two more shapes, this time all too recognizable, tumbled between the Sandstorm’s wing and the second shuttle. “A— lot of somethings.”

* * *

“Yuy, report!” Une tried to keep her voice calm, though her hands were shaking as she set down the cup of coffee she’d been about to take a sip of. “What’s going on out there?”

/“We seem to have encountered a debris field.”/ She heard someone else swearing softly across the vast distance of space, before Yuy spoke again. /“They were scanning for other ships, not organics. We flew into the edge of it before the proximity alarms went off.”/

“Organics? Oh, God. You found the bodies?”

/”We found the bodies.”/ Howard’s voice came over the com then, sounding almost as shaken as she felt. /”You’d better call Zechs, Commander. And Dorothy.”/

/”What do you mean, _‘We found the bodies’_?”/ Quatre snapped. /”You were _expecting_ to find corpses floating in the middle of fucking nowhere?”/

/”Not really,”/ Howard growled. /”All indications were that the bodies would be _us._ Now shut up and fly this bird. Barton, how many are you picking up on the scans?”/

Une reached for her phone to page Dorothy, only to see the younger woman appear in her door with a panicked look. 

“Are they—? Did the shuttle—?” Panting for breath from the dash up the stairs, Dorothy dumped her laptop on the table and leaned over the edge of Une’s desk. 

“The shuttle is intact. But they found the bodies. It may be the missing colonists from L6.” 

“Are there children among the dead?”

/”Yes,”/ Howard answered grimly. /”Not many, but some of those bodies look too small to be anything but…”/

“Then they aren’t from L6,” Dorothy groaned. “Any chance they could be from the destroyed colony?”

/“That blast wouldn’t have left bodies. And even if they were from one of the quadrants that vented, they wouldn’t have ended up this far out, this quickly. Especially not in a mass like this.”/

/”They had to come from a ship, but I sure as hell can’t find any debris,”/ Trowa muttered. /”And it looks like about fifty bodies total. None of them in suits.”/

Une rubbed her eyes wearily then looked up at Dorothy’s pale face. The other woman looked haunted, but still determined. “It’s your call…what do you suggest?”

“My call?” Dorothy threw her a startled look. “But…”

/” _Her_ call?”/ It sounded like Quatre was having to choke the words out. /”No offense, Commander, but Catalonia has nothing to do with this and no say in how we handle this situation.”/

“If there’s no indication of a ship breach, then we have a bunch of bodies that most likely went out of an airlock. At someone’s hand. Which makes it homicide,” Une sighed. “ _You_ are not investigating this matter, you’re getting those shuttles and the Senator back on this planet before anything else happens. The Homicide Department will be handling this matter from here on out.” She met Dorothy’s stunned eyes. “With Merquise’s team still in the field, you’re in charge. You and Lowell are the only two Homicide agents I have immediately at hand.”

“I…” Dorothy swallowed hard then nodded shakily. Taking a deep breath, she dropped into the chair across from Une and pulled her laptop open in front of her. “All right. Give me a minute. Howard, is Lowell there with you?”

/”I’ll get him.”/ 

/”Commander, what the _hell_ is going on here? You can’t put _her_ in charge of this—”/

/“Winner, stop arguing or get the fuck out of this cockpit,”/ Howard growled. /”I’m backing Une on this one. Catalonia and Lowell are calling the shots from here on out.”/

/”You’ve all lost your freaking minds…”/ 

/”Gorman, Chang, get him out of this cockpit!”/ 

/”You don’t have the authority to make that decision, old man.”/

/” _Shut up_!”/ Trowa’s voice rang through the comlink, and Une could imagine it cutting straight through the argument in the shuttle. /”Everybody—just shut up. Commander, are you sure about this?”/

“That’s an order, Captain Barton.”

/”Fine. Quatre, get out of here. Howard, take the shuttle controls.”/

/”Heero…”/

/”Do as he says, Winner.”/ There was no arguing with the grim finality in Heero’s voice. 

/”I don’t fucking _believe_ this—”/

/”Quat, now is not the time to argue. If whoever dumped these people is still around, then the longer we argue, the more danger we’re in.”/

/”And putting a _psychopath_ and a _rookie_ in charge of the situation is going to help?”/

/”We have our orders,”/ Heero argued, and Une let herself release a sigh of relief at the training that assured he would follow orders under most circumstances, regardless of how he felt about them. 

/”Quat, come on. Calm down. It’s not worth it,”/ Chang urged, and the sound of Quatre’s angry grumbling grew softer as he left the cockpit.

/”So—what _are_ our orders?”/ Trowa asked after a moment. /”Commander?”/

Une glanced at Dorothy, hoping that her gambit wasn’t going to backfire and the woman would freeze under pressure. To her relief, Dorothy looked steady and in control of the situation.

“I’ll need someone to gather several of the bodies to bring back. We’ll have a forensic team standing by when you land to bring them in for examination and autopsy.”

/”I think I can tell you right now how they died,”/ Trowa muttered.

“How they died isn’t the question.” Dorothy closed her eyes. “Once the bodies are on board, I’ll need them isolated. No one is to touch them, and I need as few people to be around them as possible.”

/”You think they might be carrying a form of plague? Some bacteria?”/ Heero sounded dubious. /”I doubt anything biologically dangerous could survive exposure to deep space.”/

“It’s not contamination _from_ them I’m worried about. Lowell?”

/“I’m here.”/

“Good. You were in the infirmary after the last mission. I need you and Howard to take the same precautions out there that Zechs and I used for Duo.”

/”What?”/ After a moment, the confusion in his voice changed to horrified understanding. /”You— are you sure that’s—?”/

“Trust me.”

/”Okay— I think I have a pretty good idea what precautions you’re talking about, and Lowell can fill me in on specifics later. Any preferences for recovery?”/ Howard interrupted, taking the focus back to himself, much to Une’s relief. The Pilots were used to following his orders, and far less likely to balk at any suggestion if he backed it.

“No children,” Dorothy’s voice shook slightly. “They can’t provide the answers we need. There— there should be a Preventer among the dead. Try to recover that body if you can. Otherwise, find bodies wearing jewelry, or some kind of personal objects.”

/”How many will they need? There isn’t a lot of spare room on board, and people are going to be upset at the presence of corpses as it is,”/ Lowell asked softly, still sounding stunned and shocky.

“Two, maybe three. We’ll just have to hope that one of them will be carrying the evidence we need.”

/”Understood.”/ There was a moment of hesitation. /”But I’m not sure… I’ve never done a spacewalk before, under any circumstances.”/

“ _Yuy_ can recover the bodies. I just need you and Howard to try and prevent any contamination of evidence on the trip back.”

/”We’ll manage something to secure them,”/ Howard answered, /”though I’m not sure that this is a good idea at all.”/

“You know why I’m asking this, Howard. You have to trust us.”

/”I do— or I wouldn’t be out here right now. But that doesn’t mean I don’t still think you’re all out of your collective minds.”/

“Thanks, Howard.”

/”Hey… I don’t suppose…um… you guys can send a little backup out here?”/ Lowell almost sounded like he was joking, but Une could hear the strain in his voice. /”Just in case?”/

“I’ll call Zechs. See if we can’t send someone your way,” Dorothy said quietly. “I don’t know how long it would take them to get there though. May not be in time to help much, and you won’t see them even if they are.”

/”I know. It’s the thought that counts, right?”/

 

* * *

In the end, Heero and two of the Sweepers suited up and stepped out of the airlock, carrying makeshift body bags. Lowell watched them from the cockpit with Howard, and wondered when his life had gotten fucked up to the point that he considered _ghosts_ backup— and hoped like hell that there was one in the shuttle already. _Probably_ , he mused a little hysterically, _about the time I accepted that the only reason I am still breathing at the moment is due to those same ghosts._

“Just what kind of precautions was Dorothy talking about?” Howard finally broke the tense silence, though he spoke softly. Both of them were aware of Trowa silently leaning against the bulkhead behind them, his eyes locked onto the monitors. “Exactly how careful with these bodies do we need to be?”

Lowell considered the question, and found himself wishing that Duo had explained more about what had happened in the alley, and later in the infirmary. “I think she was mostly worried about skin to skin contact. If we isolate the bodies, and no one touches any part of them—or anything they’re wearing—with bare skin, there shouldn’t be any contamination. The forensic team will still be able to pick up whatever this thing is.”

“Is it the bodies themselves that are important?”

“That part, I’m not sure. I know inanimate objects are probably the best source of information. At least… I think. If I’m understanding this whole thing right,” Lowell grimaced, and shrugged. “But hell— _you_ seem to know more about what we’re up against than I do.”

Howard laughed shortly. “No, I’m just used to deciphering Duo’s cryptic answers, and I’ve had slightly longer to get used to Zechs’ ideas of backup than you have.” He raised his voice slightly. “Trowa, status?”

Trowa didn’t bother to glance away from the screen. “No ships, and so far, their scanners haven’t picked up any trace of biological or chemical contamination.”

“There likely won’t be. That’s not the kind of contamination we’re worried about.”

“What are you worried about?” Trowa glanced back for the first time, and Lowell didn’t miss the grim warning in his eyes. “What exactly do you expect them to be bringing back onto this shuttle?”

“Just bodies, Barton. The danger is that we’ll contaminate any evidence, not that it will contaminate us.”

“Evidence of what?”

“Whoever the hell killed fifty innocent people,” Howard muttered. “Whoever killed those children out there.”

“Quat modified this particular shuttle, during the war,” Trowa pointed out quietly, still watching both of them with a quiet intensity that worried Lowell. “The secondary cargo bay can be opened by remote from the cockpit, without compromising pressurization in the cabin. It wasn’t designed to be big enough for a Gundam, but it would hold a Taurus. That should be more than enough room to store your bodies, and will be a hell of a lot less likely to freak the other passengers. And there will be no chance of— contamination.”

“Cold storage?”

“Very cold. They won’t thaw during re-entry, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“It’ll do, then.”

“I’ll let Heero know.” Trowa threw them both a last searching look, before turning back the monitors. “They’ve just reached the largest cluster of bodies. And I think we need to be far away from this part of space, as soon as possible.”

“No arguments here,” Howard nodded. “I’ll let Ahmed know as well. Once they’re back on board, we’re going to be hauling ass for Earth.”

* * *

Heero slipped towards the mass of floating bodies, maneuvering easily through the vast darkness that was space. He’d taken his first spacewalk at the age of seven, linked to Odin Lowe by strong tethers. Even as a child, he’d felt the massive emptiness around them, though it hadn’t occurred to him to be frightened of that until years later, watching Trowa’s body float into the distance above a dead colony. 

Now, staring at the bodies frozen in silent struggles around him, he found himself remembering all too clearly how it felt to watch the body of someone he loved tumble helplessly into the black.

/“Heero?”/ As if summoned by his thoughts, Trowa’s voice cut through the silence. /”Bring them back to the secondary cargo bay, the one Quat modified to hold Rashid’s Taurus.”/

“Understood.” Heero hesitated, hearing the strain in Trowa’s voice. “How are you holding up?”

/”How do you think?”/ Trowa laughed a little. /”At least I had a suit on, right? A better chance than these poor bastards did.”/

“Tro…”

/”Just get this over with and get back on this ship, Yuy. And shift your suit camera to the left, okay? All I’m picking up from it is a nice view of your helmet.”/

Heero smiled sadly, hearing the change of subject for what it was, but obediently adjusted the shoulder mounted camera. “Better?”

/”Thanks,”/ Trowa sighed. /”And not really better so much as a wider angle of view.”/

“Let Chang and Howard watch, Trowa…”

/”I’m doing this.”/ There was steel beneath the strain in his voice. /”I have to, Heero. I’m okay.”/

“I know.” He wanted to say something more, though he could barely bring himself to say ‘I love you’ in private, much less over an open comlink; but he’d reached the nearest of the tumbling bodies by then and it was time to focus on the task at hand.

He stared at the crystallized blood and ice on lips parted to scream, frozen vapor from escaped air clinging to pale skin. Eyes, open and sightless, begged for mercy. Heero grimaced, as the body rotated in the void, revealing a second smaller body snugged tight to the woman’s side, tiny arms forever bonded around her thigh. There was more blood here, an indication that survival instinct had not served the child well with the attempt to hold their breath against the hard vacuum. 

Technical specs, drilled into him as a child, told him it had been a relatively quick death, with unconsciousness coming within the first twelve seconds. The terror he could see etched deep into frozen tissue had come not from the exposure to space—but the terror of knowing it was coming. Anticipation of something humans were not designed to face, or cope with. 

He’d seen death before, far too often during the long years of training with Lowe and then later with J; so it wasn’t that he’d never seen a corpse, or even one that had been spaced before. But the sight of the child brought back memories of a park, where a girl and a dog had played with him in ignorance of the darkness of war.

/”Heero,”/ Trowa’s voice broke him out of his thoughts, and he found himself instinctively turning towards the shuttle. /”Above you to your right—ahead about two o’clock.”/

Heero tilted his head, searching for what had caught Trowa’s attention, and saw the brown and green piping of a Preventers' uniform. “I see him—on my way.”

Forcing himself to focus on the task at hand, he shoved the memories and emotions that welled up at the sight of the bodies deep into himself and concentrated on reaching the corpse Trowa had identified. Brushing past others, he forced himself not to look and not to care as his passage sent them rocking against each other, until he had arrived at his target and begun wrapping the improvised body bag around the Preventers' corpse.

/”Yuy?”/ Something about the sweeper’s tone disturbed the calm he’d forced over himself, and it was with unaccustomed reluctance that he turned to see the man hovering nearby.

“What is it?”

/”The—kids. Uh, there’s something weird…”/

/”Weird?”/ Howard’s voice broke into the pause before Heero could echo the question. /”What do you see, Biggs?”/

/”I—could be wrong. I mean— we’ve only seen a few of them and it’s not like we have any way to identify them—“/

“What?” Heero growled, impatient at the man’s stumbling report. He’d only looked at the one child— had avoided looking at the others to keep memories he couldn’t afford at bay.

/”It’s just— you know. Most of them are in an adult’s arms.”/

“So?”

/”So— I don’t think any of them are actually—in their _parent’s_ arms.”/

Heero stared at the man blankly, nearly forgetting the body in his hands as he frowned. “What? How could you…?”

The sweeper raised an arm, illuminating the nearest body to them, one that Heero had brushed past with only the faintest glance at the tiny face pressed tight to a Miner’s coverall. 

/”No family resemblance,”/ Trowa whispered over the com, his voice chilled with horror. /”Biggs is right— they’re not even from the same colony.”/

Heero blinked, then took a closer look around at the bodies around them and immediately saw what the man meant. The corpses were dressed in a variety of uniforms and clothes, differences in style and cut indicating both rank and function—but also which colony cluster they came from. Trowa had tried to explain, one night when they were actually drunk enough to talk about the ways they were trained, how to blend and adjust clothes and style to whichever colony they were on. 

Looking around with that discussion in mind, he could pick out men and women from L3 and L2, as well as a few ragged uniforms from the farther out mining satellites. The Preventer he had just tagged was wearing a shoulder patch from L4.

It took only a moment to pick up what the Sweeper had seen. For every child held by an adult, not one was held by an adult from the same ethnicity, or colony. 

/“They knew what was coming— that they were going to be executed,”/ Howard growled. /”They were trying to comfort the children.”/

/”God…”/

/”Finish it and get back here, Yuy. We’re running out of time.”/


	30. From Hell

“You know, I think I liked it better before Dr. Riese believed us,” Duo muttered, wearily rubbing his eyes with the back of his wrist. 

Zechs studied the smears of grime left behind on his cheek, but as far as he could tell, none of it was that damned mix of mud and blood; and so far, Duo hadn’t show any signs of wanting to claw his own skin off to get rid of it. Or at least, no more than he had for the last two days they’d spent in this god-forsaken alley.

“I have to agree with you there. How are you holding up, anyway?”

“I’m fine, Zechs. You don’t have to hover quite so much.” There was no force to the words though, and they both knew that Duo wasn’t really upset by his presence. Neither of them wanted to face this hell alone. “How are you doing?”

“I’ve been better. Solo’s gotten most of the witnesses to pass on though, as we find the stuff connected to them.” He paused, as Duo looked around them at the courtyard still crowded by the forensics team. “He’s still by the fence. So far, he seems to be managing okay with Treize off watching over Lowell.”

“When’s the shuttle due in?” 

Zechs winced when he realized that rather than sounding enthused at the chance to be reunited with his friends for the first time in months, Duo’s voice was thin with dread.

“About two hours.” Zechs hesitated. “I was thinking—maybe you should head back now. Get a few hours sleep before they unload the cargo hold. You’ve been pushing too hard here, trying to get this finished.”

Duo shook his head. “No.”

“Duo—”

“No. There is no way in hell I’m going to be up to facing what that shuttle has brought back today. And today is pretty much all we’re gonna have left here. Right?”

“We have enough to put all the psychos away as it is.”

“It might be enough, but we owe it to those poor bastards with Solo to make sure. At least give me today.” Haunted eyes met his for a long moment. “I promise I’ll try to sleep tonight, and tomorrow, or whenever the bodies have thawed enough that I can touch them without losing fingers, I’ll devote myself to that instead. I just— Don’t make me do both the same day. Po’ll ground me for life if I pass out again.”

Zechs nodded. “Doro’s planning to debrief Lowell and Howard this afternoon, anyway. But today is all I can give you. Tomorrow—”

“I know. Tomorrow is a brand new day, and the fun never ends.”

* * *

There was a crowd waiting inside the terminal when the two shuttles finally touched down. Trowa watched wearily as the injured were loaded into waiting ambulances, and the rest into busses. Lady Une and Relena’s staff had arranged lodging for the refugees, while the sweepers were being put up in hotels until they could be reunited with their own ships again. 

Cryswell and Frost both climbed into the ambulance with a groggy, but finally conscious Ivanovich, and Trowa felt a little relief that the medics seemed pleased with his vitals.

The three orphans had been herded into Relena’s limo, and he suspected that they were in for a crash course in living with nobility. No doubt, that same nobility would be getting a similar introduction to living with suspicious street kids; a month ago, he would have laid bets on the kids winning, but Relena had surprised him on the trip to L6 and back. It might just be an even match of wills.

“Looks like our ride is here,” Heero muttered, breaking him out of his musings to see the Preventers’ transports waiting at the curb. The four former pilots headed for the first van. They were followed a moment later by Lowell, Howard and the few remaining Preventers that had not needed long overdue medical attention.

No one spoke on the trip back to headquarters. Trowa let himself relax for the first time in days, his head slipping down to rest on Heero’s shoulder. It was after the van stopped and Heero nudged him awake, that he realized he’d dozed off. 

Only when they were standing on the sidewalk and the van had driven away again, did Trowa notice that not only were they alone, but that they were standing in front of their apartment building. 

“I thought we were reporting in to Une?” Trowa tried and failed to keep the relief out of his voice at the thought of just taking a shower and tumbling facedown into their bed. Considering how exhausted he felt, he’d settle for skipping the shower and just hitting the sheets.

“She’s got the reports we transmitted last night. I doubt she seriously expects us to add anything that we haven’t already sent about what happened, especially not if she wants coherence and logic to play any part.”

“Thank God,” Trowa mumbled, leaning heavily on Heero’s shoulder as they stepped into the elevator. “Why couldn’t the Doctors ever pick up on that little bit of wisdom?”

“There you go, expecting miracles again.” Heero grimaced as he fumbled with the key, the first sign that he was feeling as exhausted as Trowa. “You want first shower?”

“Go ahead.” Trowa kicked off his shoes just inside the door, and then padded across the floor to collapse on the couch. 

“Don’t fall asleep on the couch.”

“Don’t take forever in the shower.”

Heero just waved one hand in weary agreement and vanished down the hall with their duffel bags. Leaning back against soft padding, which in no way resembled the seat of a shuttle, Trowa let his toes curl in the carpet and breathed deeply of non-recycled, slightly musty air. It was a habit he’d picked up from Duo, and he smiled faintly at the thought of his best friend. 

In the bathroom, the shower kicked on. Knowing that Heero was likely to be out again in a matter of minutes, Trowa fumbled his phone from his jacket pocket and let himself sink back into the soft cushions as he dialed Duo’s number. 

Trowa frowned when the call transferred directly to voicemail after only two rings, but then decided it was just as well. He was too exhausted to manage his side of the conversation, and catching up with his best friend was going to take longer than he was likely to stay conscious and reasonably coherent. 

“Hey, man. It’s Trowa. I’m planet side again. Finally. So, give me a call, dude,” he hesitated then, hating that he even had to add, “but tomorrow afternoon, okay? I’m wiped and planning to sleep for the next eighteen hours. Still, I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?” Trowa swallowed hard, then forced the rest of the words out quickly. “It felt wrong, not having you there with us on this one.”

The call disconnected, and he sat staring at his phone until Heero came to pry him off the couch.

* * *

Duo watched silently from a corner, Zechs an imposing sentinel in front of him, as two morgue technicians wheeled the last of the three tables into place in the small operating theatre. White sheets over the bodies hid them from view, in an attempt to preserve the clinical, sterile atmosphere, but there was no disguising what lay underneath. 

It had taken nearly a day and a half after the bodies had reached the lab before Sally and Dr. Riese had declared them safe for Duo to touch. As expected, no biological contaminants had survived the cold of deep space; at least none their equipment could detect.

All handling of the bodies once they had cleared the cargo hold, had been done by gloved morgue technicians and the medical examiner, none of whom considered it anything but routine and thus were less likely to contaminate the evidence with strong emotions. 

Sally Po studied the arrangement of the tables, and finally waved the remaining technicians out of the room. Dorothy shared a nod with Howard and Lowell where they waited outside the door, before closing it firmly. 

“Sally…”

“You are out of your mind if you think I am letting him do this with no medical personnel at hand, Merquise.” 

“It’s okay, Zechs,” Duo mumbled quietly, wishing he could tear his gaze away from the shrouded tables. “Though I do feel like an animal in a zoo at the moment.”

“Une is the only one watching the video feed that Dorothy set up.” Sally said quietly. “Lowell and Howard will make sure that no one else gets near this room until you are done.” 

He laughed softly, the sound bitter. “That doesn’t make me feel less like a lab rat. But thanks.”

“What do you need us to do, Duo?” Dorothy asked quietly, her voice calmer than her expression. 

“Just catch me if I fall, huh? Still have the bruises from a coupla days ago.” Duo turned back to look at the three tables. “Let’s hope this works, huh?”

“If it doesn’t, we give the bodies back to Dr. Riese for traditional forensic studies, and we go on with what we can do.” Zechs hand clasped his shoulder tightly. “Just breathe, Duo.

“Yeah.” Taking the first step out of Zechs’ shadow was the hardest, but almost before he realized it, he was standing in front of the first table. He hadn’t looked at any of the files, didn’t want to know what was going to be under the stark white sheets until he had to finally reach out and put his hands on what was there. “No kids, right?”

“No kids.” Dorothy said quietly, moving from where Sally was pressed against the wall to a place on the other side of the table. Duo felt Zechs twitch behind him, and wondered just how many ghosts were standing in this room already. 

Taking a final deep breath, he reached out to pull the shroud off the first body.

***

Une looked up as Trowa followed Heero into her office, her expression shifting abruptly from startled to annoyed as Quatre and Wufei followed them in. 

“I don’t believe we had a meeting scheduled, Yuy.” She glanced at something on her computer screen, and her expression went tight. “This is really not a good time.”

“When will be a good time, Commander?” Quatre asked grimly. “We’ve been sitting here on earth for two days, while whoever shoved fifty people out of an airlock and possibly tried to kill an entire colony gets farther away by the second.”

“That is no longer your concern, Winner. That is now being investigated by the Homicide Department, and they will be the team going after whoever is responsible.” She sighed. “Forensics has only now been able to start working with the bodies you brought back. If we get a lead, I promise you it will be followed.”

“Homicide department? You mean Merquise, Catalonia and Lowell?”

“Among others, yes.”

“You have got to be kidding me, how the hell are they going to be able to solve anything? Is this some mad idea of fighting fire with fire, by sending two psychopaths out to look for others?”

“That is emough!” Une stood up, one hand on her computer as she leaned across the desk. “That is more than enough. This is not up for discussion, any of you.” She took a deep breathe, and Trowa could see her visibly fighting for restraint. “I seem to recall that Catalonia saved several of your lives, as well as those of a number of other Preventers on L2-V08997. You would do well to remember that, and make your peace with her being a Preventer and your equal.”

“Commander—“ Heero started, his expression almost matching hers for cold fury. “You know that if we had not been out there, more people would have died on that colony, and Relena Peacecraft might well have been one of the people missing from L6. The Preventers you sent to that abandoned colony have found nothing more in the last few days than we found in two hours on that station. You need to let us go back out there and do our jobs. That is why you hired all the ex-gundam pilots, isn’t it? You need our skills.”

Something flashed across her expression, too quickly for Trowa to see what it was before she sighed, and sank back down in her chair. Her gaze slipped back to her computer monitor for a long moment, before she looked back up at them; this time her eyes held more regret than anger. “Unfortunately, this time you don’t have the skills I need more of. And I cannot afford to waste the four of you on what might well turn out to be a suicide mission. Not yet, anyway.”

“But—“  


“Here,” she slapped a stack of files down on the desk in front of Quatre, “these are your new cases. I expect preliminary reports in two days. Now get out of my office.” 

The four ex-pilots sighed, and stood up. Quatre gathered up the files she’d pushed across the desk, and they filed slowly towards the door. Trowa caught Heero’s eye for a second, and motioned silently that he would catch up later.

Trowa waited until the door had closed behind them, before sitting back down in his chair. Une had turned back to her computer, and was studying something intently, though he knew she was aware of his presence. Eventually, she sighed. 

“What part of _‘get out of my office’_ was not clear, Barton?”

“You said you aren’t wasting the four of us on a suicide mission,” Trowa said calmly. 

She looked up at him with a scowl. “There were four of you in my office. I thought that was fairly obvious.”

“You won’t waste the four of us, but you have more than just the four of us that were former pilots.” Trowa matched her frown with one of his own, as pieces started falling together into a pattern he did not like. “I overheard a few odd conversations between Lowell and Howard on that shuttle, and Duo’s name came up in connection to Merquise.” 

She sat back in her chair, and stared at him evenly. “Lowell was partnered with Maxwell on their last case. Merquise and Catalonia were involved as well. This is not some great conspiracy…”

“Isn’t it? I get a single email from my best friend the entire three months I am off world, saying weird stuff happened but not to worry. But every message I leave for him goes straight to voicemail and is never returned. His father and recent partner talk about the three of them in cryptic whispers, like we are the _enemy_ instead of his _friends._ ” He hesitated, not sure he wanted to ask the next question. 

“In the two days I have been back on Earth, I have yet to lay eyes on him. I have tried his apartment, which he apparently no longer lives in, his office, which has none of his things in it, and even laid in wait for him in the lobby at the end of shift.” He eyed her warily. “However, I _did_ hear a number of odd rumors about the new homicide department.”

“I would advise you not to listen to rumors, Barton. There seem to be a number of nasty ones floating about the office which are not true.” She picked up the cup of coffee and took a sip.

“Such as Preventers has a new black ops team masquerading as a homicide department?”

Her eyes widened with surprise at that, and coffee splashed onto the desk in front of her as she hastily put the cup back down. “That is a new one, I will grant you. And most assuredly not true.”

“Isn’t it? I thought that was the team you intend to send on a suicide mission to find who is stealing people from colonies, and murdering them.”

“I would prefer not to send anyone on a suicide mission, and believe me, I intend to send the team I think will be most effective. However, what I do or do not do, is quite frequently above your clearance level, Captain.” She wiped up the coffee off the desk, and then looked back up at him. “If you are asking if Maxwell is a member of the homicide division, he is. If you are asking where he is or what made him not return your calls, I suggest you use your investigative skills to find him and ask him yourself.”

“Howard seemed worried about him. Is he alright?”

“Maxwell hasn’t been alright for months,” Une replied softly. “But some things it may be too late to fix. And while it is nice to know that at least one of you is not completely oblivious to what is around you, it is up to Maxwell to tell you what is going on—if he chooses to do so. There are enough rumors flying around this building, and I have no intention of adding to them. You are dismissed, Barton.”

He stared at her for a long moment, but eventually stood up and turned to the door.

“Trowa.” He hesitated at the sound of his name, looking back over his shoulder. Her eyes were once more trained on whatever was on her computer screen. “For Duo’s sake, I suggest you be careful who you ask, and who you listen to about any of this. You may not like the answers to your questions.”

He nodded, her words echoing in his head as he closed the door. 

 

**

Duo stared at the body on the table, taking in what details he could just by looking. It was a woman, dark skinned and wearing a miner’s coveralls. Her hands were heavily calloused, indicating that she had been accustomed to hard labor, and she wore no jewelry. 

Taking a deep breath, he reached out shaking fingers to touch the back of her hand. Nothing happened. There were no impressions, no visions. Nothing to tell him what she had experienced when she died, except a numbing deep cold creeping like ice from his fingertips. 

_I’m not sure this is going to work. What if now that everyone has pinned their hopes on this freak ability, it fails on me?_  
Duo wasn’t sure if what he felt was relief or disappointment, as he stepped back from the body and threw a quick glance at Zechs. His partner gave him a reassuring nod, and gestured to the next table. 

The second body was a man, a dockworker from his clothes, with a patch on one shoulder showing a company based on L3, and metal dog-tags peeking from his collar. Duo steeled himself again, and reached for the scraps of metal and chain. 

This time, images assaulted him as soon as he touched the tags, _of people being shoved by soldiers in vaguely familiar dark uniforms into ragged rows… a cavernous room filled with more people than he could count in the brief glimpse he caught… and somewhere behind him a voice calling out numbers. He stumbled as someone pushed him, and nearly fell as he was dragged out of line. When he looked up, the men with guns were herding more people out of the crowd, and he realized with horror as the numbers continued, that it was every tenth person being shoved out of line. Children were dragged out of parents arms, and together they were all shoved into the airlock…_

Duo jerked his fingers away from the dog tags, dropping to his knees with a hoarse cry as nausea welled up too quickly for him to stop it. He heard Zechs calling for Dorothy, even as he doubled over and emptied his stomach onto the floor beneath the table. Hands caught his shoulders, and everything went dark.


	31. Messages from the Dead

“Duo! Shit, move the table!” Zechs threw an arm around Duo’s chest as the younger man collapsed, catching him before he could hit his head on the metal gurney.

Dorothy shoved the table away with a screech of metal wheels, while Zechs pulled Duo back against his chest and away from the thin pool of vomit on the floor. His partner sagged against him, and Zechs found himself sitting against the wall, cradling Duo in his arms and praying they hadn’t just pushed him past his limits.

Sally crouched in front of him, a towel in one hand and a bottle of water in the other. “Is he—?”

Dorothy crouched at his other side, grabbing Duo’s hand and forcing the ring they had infused with their feelings for him onto one limp finger. Duo twitched in his arms, and then pressed his face against Zechs shoulder with a groan.

“Duo? Can you hear me?”

“I…” He coughed, the taste in his mouth making him gag again even as the overwhelming terror washed out of him again. “I’m okay.”

“Take a mouthful, then spit it out,” Sally directed calmly, pressing the bottle of water to his lips. “That’s it. Now a second one and swallow.” 

“Duo, what did you see?”

“I don’t – they had guns. It looked like a station, or a big ship, but not a colony. There were soldiers, and a lot of people. They decimated them…” Duo’s voice trailed off into a low moan. “Just counted them out and picked every tenth person to die…”

“Easy, just breathe.” Zechs tightened his grip. “We’re done here. Just breathe.”

“There’s still one more…” Duo started.

“Are you insane? All you’re going to get is more people terrified of dying, as they are shoved out an airlock. That information is not worth what it is doing to you!”

“Zechs,” Duo forced his head up, and looked at the last table. “I’m okay.”

“You are not okay…”

“You said the last one was a Preventer, right?”

“Possibly. He’s wearing a Preventer uniform, but he’s not in our records anywhere. We haven’t been able to identify him yet.”

“The uniforms the soldiers were wearing. They looked a lot like Preventer’s uniforms—“ Duo struggled back to his feet, with help from Zechs and Dorothy. “I need to try, Zechs. We don’t have enough, based on what I saw, to know where to look yet.”

Zechs wanted to argue, but said nothing as Duo gripped the edge of the shroud and pulled it off. Shaking off their hands, he moved closer to the body. The harsh lights of the operating room glinted sharply off something metallic in clenched, ice stiff fingers, and as they watched, Duo reached for the man’s hand. Forcing the fingers open, he found an old fashioned lighter inside, with an unfamiliar logo on it. 

Taking a last deep breathe, Duo reached out and brushed his fingers across the metal case. 

Zechs held his breath as Duo stiffened, his eyes closing as whatever he was seeing rushed over him. He swayed, but didn’t fall, and as he moved closer Zechs could hear him mumbling something under his breath. After several long moments, Duo gasped, and pulled his fingers away from the lighter.

This time, Zechs caught him around the waist before he could fall, wrapping both arms around Duo as he shuddered.

“Duo?”

“We—” He stopped, and then looked up at Zechs with dazed eyes. “We need to go there.” Duo pointed vaguely at the lighter. “Bar on… on L1.”

“A bar?”

“You’re right, he wasn’t a Preventer.” Duo sagged against him, and dropped his head against Zechs’ shoulder. “It’s your turn now.”

“My turn—you think his ghost is in a bar on L1?”

“Pretty sure.” Duo laughed weakly, the sound completely without humor. “It meant enough to him to think of it while dying. He was one of them, but he wouldn’t let them kill the baby, so they executed him instead. “

“I do not like the sound of these assholes at all,” Dorothy growled, wrapping her hands around Duo’s trembling fingers.

“Yeah. But if Zechs can get him to talk… he can tell us who and where they are.” Duo sighed. “I think I’m gonna pass out now, guys.” Even as he said it, Zechs found himself holding all of his weight as Duo went completely limp in his arms.

“Zechs, we need to get him to medical,” Sally Po muttered, and Zechs realized for the first time that she had Duo’s wrist in her hands to monitor his pulse. “Dorothy…”

“Right, I’ll figure out where that logo is for, and talk to Une.” She looked reluctantly at Zechs. “I’ll be there as soon as I can. Take care of him.”

“You know I will.”

**

Trowa stepped into the office he shared with Heero, only to find all three of the other pilots waiting for him. 

“Well?” Wufei asked sharply. “Did you get her to change her mind and put us on the case?”

“No,” Trowa sighed, slumping into his chair and spinning to look at the others. “I didn’t.” He eyed his friends, wondering why he suddenly felt reluctant to tell them about what Une had said.

“This makes no sense,” Heero muttered. 

“Maybe,” Trowa frowned. “Quat, you said you saw Duo right before you left Earth with Relena.”

“Yes. So?”

“Where did you see him? And how did he look?”

“He was in his office, talking to Lowell about some case they had just finished.” Quatre looked puzzled. “They both looked tired, but that was all.”

“How did he feel?”

“Feel?” Quatre blinked. “I… didn’t really notice. I had been looking for Lowell, to make arrangements. Why?”

“Une let it slip that something is wrong with him, and has been for a while, but she refused to say what. Said I would have to find him myself and ask.”

“If there was a problem, Maxwell would have told us.” Heero muttered.

“Would he?” Trowa shrugged. “Maybe. But I think we should talk to him. He might have some answers that we need right now.”

“I agree.” Quatre nodded. “We can go out to dinner. I’ll make reservations at that new Bistro down on Commonwealth.”

“Perhaps we should actually find Duo before we make reservations.” Trowa frowned. “Somehow I don’t think this is going to be that simple.”

“How hard can it be to find him?” Wufei sighed. “He’s not exactly inconspicuous with that ridiculous braid and loud personality.” 

“Considering I have been looking for him for two days, harder than you might think.” Trowa shook his head.

“Everything will be alright, I’m sure of it,” Quatre reassured him confidently. “After all, I would have felt it if anything was seriously wrong.”

“Are you sure?”

“What? Of course.”

“Because whatever is going on, it’s connected to Lowell’s hostility towards you on the shuttle, and whatever the hell is going on in this place.”

“What do you mean, what is going on in this place?”

“You, of all people, haven’t noticed it? The way everyone stares at us now, as if they expect us to start mowing down people in the cafeteria? The whispers about the new homicide division? Which, by the way, Duo is part of?”

“No, I…” Quatre looked stunned, as if it had never occurred to him that his empathy might fail. “I haven’t noticed anything.”

“If something is wrong with Duo, we’ll figure it out,” Heero said quietly, putting one hand on Trowa’s shoulder. “As Wufei said, how hard can it be to find him, if all of us are looking?”

**

Dorothy was not surprised when Une met her in the stairwell before she had made it more than a single floor.

“What happened?” Une threw her a worried look. “I had unexpected visitors, so I couldn’t hear everything, but I saw Duo collapse. Is he--?”

“Sally is checking him out.” Dorothy glanced around the stairwell, hearing the echoes around them. With a grimace, she gestured at the third floor. “There is something I want to look up, a lead maybe, but we need to talk. Come on.”

She led the way into Purgatory, and wondered if it was a good or bad sign that Une was not arguing. Once the door had closed behind them, she sat down behind Epyon’s monitor, and gestured for Une to take the couch.

“Nice office,” was the only comment the other woman made, as she sat down. “It suits you all.”

“Thank you.” Dorothy touched the keyboard, and felt Epyon linking to her, pulsing a bit in reassurance. “Duo caught a lead, but this is not making any sense.” She rubbed her forehead. “In Yuy’s report about the riots, he mentioned that witnesses said Preventers were behind the disappearances of whole neighborhoods.”

“True, but that can’t possibly be true. We didn’t take custody of that many people…”

“We didn’t, no.” Dorothy frowned. “But somebody did. The third body, the last one Duo read—“

“The Preventer?”

“That’s just it. He wasn’t a Preventer. He was one of the ones doing this. Duo described them as soldiers, but dressed very much like preventers. He thought it was a large ship or even a station, but not a colony.”

“Which station?”

“He couldn’t tell.” Dorothy sighed. “He’s described this as having an entire nightmare downloaded straight into his brain in seconds. There aren’t always as many details as we would like.”

“No… I imagine not.” Une rubbed one hand over her mouth. “But he did get something. You said you had a possible lead.”

“He thinks Zechs might be able to get answers from the man’s ghost. If we can track him down.”

Une stared at her in stunned silence. 

“I know, it’s a long shot. But it’s the only one we have.” Dorothy laughed bitterly. “We’re going to need to go to L1. The sooner the better.”

“I’ll have a shuttle ready. When?”

“I—“ Dorothy shook her head. “I don’t know. It depends on Duo. This was not easy on him, especially so soon after the harbor incident, and trying to locate the evidence there.”

“If there is even a chance that you can find out who is behind this evil, we will give you anything you need to do the job,” Une promised, sounding equally bitter. “And for all I refused to send the other pilots back out on a suicide mission, I cannot afford to lose any of you either.”

“Enough of us are already dead,” Dorothy laughed a little unsteadily. “The rest of us don’t need to join them. Let me talk to Zechs and Duo, when he is out of medical. We’ll give you our list by tomorrow.”

“Dorothy,” Une stood, looking at her seriously for a long moment. “I may not understand how you do what you are capable of, or even know what all you can do. But I do know these gifts are not easy for any of you. I will do whatever I can to help you— and shield you.”

“Thank you, Une.”

The commander turned toward the door. “Let Duo know, when he wakes up, that Barton is looking for him. I would… I would recommend he make the effort to talk to him, before you leave Earth. Just in case.”

** *

When Duo finally opened his eyes, it was to the distinct feeling of having been run over by a gundam. He blinked up at the bright lights above him for a moment, then rolled his head to see Zechs and Howard frowning over something on a datapad.

“Zechs…?” His voice came out cracked, but audible enough to draw the attention of the two men hunched over the rolling table.

“How do you feel?” Zechs moved quickly to his side, lifting a glass of water to his mouth so that he could drink. Howard set the tablet aside, and moved to sit on the other side of the bed, studying Duo silently. 

“Pretty crappy, actually.” He finally managed to sit up a little, with help from his partner. “Tell me that we got something worthwhile out of that?”

“You don’t remember?”

“I am trying very, very hard not to even think about anything I might remember.” Duo responded wearily. “Tell me we got a lead, but maybe don’t tell me what it was just yet.”

“We got a slight lead. Dorothy is doing some research on it now. As soon as we can get things put together, we’ll head out to track it down.”

“Things? What kind of things?”

“A concrete destination, and a flight plan. You pointed us to L1.” 

“Huh.” Duo rubbed his eyes with one shaking hand. “Awesome. I’ll start packing.”

“Not so fast, Maxwell.” He turned his head to see Sally Po standing in the doorway with a scowl. “You aren’t going in this kind of shape.”

“Sally, this is…”

“This is nothing.” Her scowl grew darker. “You are staying put until I am sure you will not pass out again. Zechs, Dorothy and Lowell will make the arrangements, and I am sure Zechs will be more than willing to pack for you.”

“But…” 

“Or they can try this mission without you.” 

“Yes ma’am.” He saluted her awkwardly, swallowing his anger as he realized he really did not want to stand up at the moment, much less head into space to fight the kind of enemy that would throw children out of an airlock. 

He ignored Howard’s eye-roll, and let himself sink back into the pillows. The ring that Dorothy had shoved onto his finger was still there, and between that and Zechs’ hand around his, he finally felt safe enough from the nightmares to close his eyes again.


	32. Suicide is Painless

Heero stepped into the office across the hall, not sure what he intended to say to Duo if he was there; but he knew he owed some kind of apology for letting his own insecurity come between Duo and Trowa. 

He wished he could say he felt more surprised that the office was currently occupied only by a complete stranger. Duo’s desk was empty, though a half filled box next to it gave him some hope that his former partner would be back eventually. 

The stranger looked up at him, and swallowed nervously. “Can I help you?”

“Where is Maxwell?”

“Who?” The man blinked, looking confused.

Heero peered closer at his desk, seeing the nameplate that read Robinson half buried under papers and a small stuffed dog. “This is your office?”

“Yes, sir.”

“How long?”

“What?” The agent blinked again. “Three weeks, sir.” He stood up, still looking nervous but now also a little awestruck. “Captain Yuy, I just wanted to say that I am from L1 too, and what you did during the war— piloting a Gundam and all—“

Heero ignored the babble, frowning a little. “Who do you share the office with?”

“It was Robert Lowell, but he transferred out yesterday.” Robinson shrugged. “Commander Une hasn’t assigned me a new office mate yet, so it’s just me.”

“Where did Lowell transfer to?”

Robinson suddenly went pale. “He’s working with the spook squad, sir.”

“The spook squad?” Heero scowled harder, and Robinson dropped back into his seat with a muffled sound. 

“H-homicide, Captain Yuy.”

“Where is his new office?”

“I—I don’t know.” Robinson shook his head. “I’m still pretty new here, I just know people refer to the homicide department as the spook squad, and working with them is likely to get you killed. I’ve never actually seen any of them except Lowell.”

Heero snorted. “Working for Preventers is likely to get you killed, if you aren’t careful.” 

“Y-yes sir.”

Heero shook his head as he left the office. _I think Une needs to be a little pickier about the quality of recruits we accept as Preventers._

Dropping into his chair, he eyed his computer thoughtfully. 

*******

Wufei could feel Quatre fretting behind him as they walked back into Preventers Headquarters after lunch. He was beginning to think that Trowa was right. For a hero of the war, a former Gundam pilot, and someone with a ridiculously distinctive appearance, somehow in the last three months Duo had turned into a ghost.

He waved at the security guards behind the desk as they headed for the elevator; then thought better of it. Quatre made a startled sound , nearly running into him as he changed direction.

“Hello,” he stopped in front of the security guards. “I was wondering if you could tell me when Duo Maxwell usually leaves for the evening?”

“Maxwell?” The guards both blinked, then looked at each other uncertainly.

“Yes, Maxwell.” Wufei wondered if they had somehow slipped into an alternate universe while on L6, because nothing in the entire damn universe had made sense from that point on. _Great, now I am even thinking like Duo._ “Ex-Gundam pilot? Stands about five foot six and has a braid down past his hips?” 

“Uh—sorry Agent Chang. I can’t.”

“You can’t?” Quatre entered the conversation for the first time. “What do you mean _you can’t?_ We’re his friends, and fellow agents. I assure you we have the clearance to ask what time he leaves for the day…”

“It’s not that!” the second guard exclaimed. “But we honestly couldn’t tell you.”

“He doesn’t have a set time of the day that he leaves. None of them do.”

“Them?”

“T-the Homicide department,” the first guard stammered. 

“I think the new guy still leaves,” the second guard mused. 

“Who is the new guy?” Quatre asked impatiently.

“Agent Lowell.” The guard looked relieved to be able to answer something. “Though come to think of it, I think the night shift said he had come in with Duo a few times after midnight, so he may not be leaving any more either.”

“They have to leave at some time every day.”

“I don’t think so.” The guard shrugged. “I have seen them head out to the field a few times, but most of the time, I don’t think they leave. Ever.”

“You don’t think they leave, ever.” Wufei felt his eyebrows rising as he stared at the two guards in dismay. “And that doesn’t strike you as unusual?”

“Carter reported it to the head of security once, and we got a notice from Commander Une that no one at this level was to concern themselves with when Agents Merquise, Catalonia or Maxwell chose to enter or leave the building.”

“So, what? They’re just living somewhere in the building, and Commander Une seems to be fine with that?” Quatre shook his head. “This is unbelievable.”

“You might check with the forensics guys,” the first guard said quietly. “Merquise and Maxwell were working with them on the Harbor case.”

“I think that ended.” The two guards looked at each other. “Cause I heard Bennett, he’s on the forensics team, complaining that it was going to be a much harder job now that the homicide agents were being pulled off the search for evidence.”

“When was that?”

“I’m pretty sure it was yesterday,” guard two mused. “Bennett said that was a fucked up case, what with there being a cult of serial killers right here in Sanck.”

“What about the security cameras?” Wufei growled, feeling his patience going. “Could you check and see when the last time Maxwell arrived was?”

“ Well, they don’t usually show up on the security cameras.” Guard one lowered his voice. “We only know when they come in from the field for the night if they walk by us. It’s why Murtaugh started calling them the spook squad.” He looked around nervously, as if expecting a member of the homicide department to appear behind him. “That and they wander around the building pretty much at all times of the day and night, but don’t talk to anyone but Sally Po or Lady Une.”

Wufei found himself meeting Quatre’s worried eyes. _Trowa was right. Something very strange was going on in the heart of the Preventers building. Of course Maxwell would be involved._

“Well, if they walk by you today, would you please call us?” Quatre handed them a card. “It really is urgent that we talk to Agent Maxwell.”

“Yes sir, Agent Winner.”

“Thank you.” 

Neither spoke until they were in the elevator, then Quatre looked over at him. “Is it just me, or is this whole thing kind of … weird?”

“It’s not just you.”

*******

Heero was staring at his computer, a frown creasing his brow, when Trowa threw himself into his chair. He was followed into the office a few moments later by Quatre and Wufei.

“Were you able to find him?” Heero looked up from his computer with an oddly curious look. Trowa shook his head, frustration and worry welling up behind tightly clenched teeth.

“We had no luck either,” Wufei grumbled. “Though we did find out a few things that are very odd.”

“Oh?” Heero leaned back in his chair, for once his full attention on them and not split between living people and his computer. “What kind of odd?’

“The fact that the homicide department is known as the spook squad because they never speak to anyone else, never leave the building except to go into the field, and never show up on security cameras, kind of odd.”

Trowa scowled. “I heard they were called the spook squad because they are a black ops team, using the homicide department claim as a cover.” He shrugged. “Though Une did seem rather surprised by that bit of rumor and gossip.”

“I hate to admit it Trowa, but you were right about the amount of gossip and ill will there seems to be regarding Duo, Merquise and Catalonia among the other agents based in Sanck. Not that I am surprised about Catalonia, but Duo has always been popular with others. I don’t understand how I didn’t notice this before.”

“Has anyone found out whether the homicide office has an actual physical location inside this building?” Heero glanced back at the computer on his desk. “Though now that you mention the issue with the security cameras, that does explain a few things that I had noticed.”

“How does it explain anything?” Quatre sighed. “I talked to Duo in his office right before we left for L6, and now you say it’s not his office, and no one has seen him for months.”

“Not according to the building directory, floorplans or security cameras.” Heero shook his head. “I spoke to the agent currently using the office that Merquise and Duo shared. Apparently he has never met either of them personally, but is convinced that working with them would lead to his death. _Lowell_ was sharing the office with him, up until the day after we got back from space. Then he apparently transferred to the homicide department, packed up his things and moved to wherever it is that they are working.” He frowned. “I hacked into the security camera recordings, hoping to trace where he went, and according to the videos saved on the main server, he carried his things into the south stairwell on the fourth floor and never emerged onto any other floor.”

“They have to be somewhere in this building.” Wufei muttered. “Maybe we should ask Une or Sally directly.”

“I did.” Trowa sighed. “Neither of them would tell me where Duo is, though Sally looked almost guilty. Pressing her only made her clam up though. So I went to all of their addresses on record. Duo gave up his apartment three months ago, Catalonia hasn’t been seen at her mansion in almost as long, and no one in any of the apartments around Zechs’ place could say when the last time they had seen him was, though they did mention that the few times he has been there, he had friends with him.”

“How can anyone not show up on the security cameras?”

“The only way is if someone has been systematically scrubbing them from the records. The same reason there is only a notice that they all vacated their offices at the same time, but no record of where the homicide department is located.”

“You think they are coming and going by a secret means?” Wufei asked. 

“I think that someone is actively trying to erase their tracks, and doing a damned good job of it.” Heero growled, scowling at his computer. “All of my searches have ended with no results. But my computer has locked up four times since I started.”

“Why would they be trying so hard not to be found?” Quatre mused. 

“You saw the reactions of every other agent we have asked about them.” Trowa rubbed his head, hoping to ease the building headache. “If I was the subject of that much vitriol and gossip, I’m not sure I would want to be found either.”

*******

“Come on, Sally,” Duo wheedled hopefully, as he pulled on the clean jeans and tee shirt that Dorothy had dropped off earlier. “I’m fine—no vertigo, no nausea, not even slightly wobbly anymore.” He pulled out the grin she hadn’t seen in far too long. “I am, however, going nuts in here staring at the walls. You guys seriously need to pick another color if you want a patient to stay put in here for more than an hour.”

She eyed him skeptically. “And you think going back out to that hellhole to touch more murder weapons, by yourself no less, since Zechs is working with Howard on flight plans and Dorothy is gathering supplies for this suicide run, is a good idea?”

“You know Dr. Riese is gonna be watching me like a hawk,” Duo muttered, rolling his eyes and gesturing at the doctor standing by the door. “And we are so damn close to wrapping this up.“

“If I say no, you’re going to go out there anyway, aren’t you?”

“Why do you even bother to ask questions that you already know the answer too?” He shook his head sadly. “But I haven’t been triggered there for at least the last two days, and I need to get the images I saw when I touched those bodies out of my head.”

“I keep wondering that myself.” She sighed. “Four hours, Duo, and if Albert thinks you look even a little wobbly, he’s yanking you out of the field. Is that clear?” She glared at Albert until he nodded as well.

“Crystal! Thanks Sally, I owe you one.”

“You owe me a lot, Maxwell.” 

*******

Quatre frowned as he stepped out of the office in his quest for hot tea. _What have we done? How could Duo have vanished so completely and we not have noticed? And how are we supposed to ask him what happened if we can’t find him?_

It was late, but none of them had been able to bring themselves to leave without finding Duo; he had never noticed before how quiet the building seemed when most of the first shift agents left for the day. _Maybe Trowa was right, and we don’t deserve to call ourselves his friends anymore._

Deciding that he couldn’t face Trowa’s quiet desperation, and Heero’s guilt any longer, he bypassed the small break area and the elevators, and headed for the stairwell instead. Walking down to the small coffee shop around the corner might give him time to clear his head.

He was passing the second floor doorway, when the door opened and a ragged figure in filthy jeans and a battered uniform coat stepped inside. He found himself staggering to a halt in shock, and nearly falling, when he realized it was the quarry they had been looking for.

“Duo?” Quatre could only stare at him in shock, barely recognizing his friend underneath the grime. “Where have you been?”

Duo glanced up at him in surprise, and smiled wearily; looking at the familiar sight, it was almost possible to dismiss Trowa’s fears that something had happened to their friend. 

“Been out in the field for a few days,” Duo shrugged, and moved to head up the stairs towards the upper floors. As he passed, Quatre put out a hesitant hand to stop him.

“Duo, wait…” Quatre started, suddenly unsure of what to say. “We’ve been trying to find you, since we got back to Earth. You changed offices, and your phone has been going straight to voicemail—”

“Oh, yeah—sorry man. Thought I’d told you guys.” Duo shrugged, and for the first time, Quatre realized that Duo had just lied to him. 

“Maxwell!” Both men glanced around as Dorothy Catalonia stalked up the stairs towards them. “What are you – I can’t believe Po _let_ you go back to the harbor. You have been out of medical for less than five hours, and you already reek of that crap _again_. Is she out of her mind?” She ignored Quatre completely.

“Oh, did I offend your delicate sensibilities?” Duo laughed. “So sorry, babe.”

“No.” She reached out, much to Quatre’s shock, and grabbed the braid hanging down his back. “But you have half an hour to shower before I come and drag your ass out of the men’s locker room.”

“You would traumatize half the night shift rookies for life, just to get your hands on me wet and naked? I’m touched. Really.” 

“I’m tired and cranky. Half an hour, Maxwell. Don’t make me come after you. Or you won’t get dinner tonight.”

“Considering who we sent after the food, I may not get dinner tonight anyway.” Duo didn’t seem all that concerned. “Zechs has terrible taste in restaurants.”

“Howard went with him,” she growled, tugging on the braid a last time. “I am sure there will be something unhealthy that you consider food.”

“Yeah, yeah. Fine. I’ll be there in twenty minutes, and still probably beat them back.”

She threw a single sharp nod at Quatre and releasing Duo’s braid, stalked past them up the stairs.

“She’s so hot when she’s pissed off,” Duo smirked a little. “Sorry, Q, anyway, I gotta go. I’m apparently under a bit of a time limit. Wouldn’t want to have to send a new squad of rookies to therapy.”

“Duo, why are you working with Catalonia— of all people?”

“What?” Duo shrugged. “It just kinda happened. I know you two don’t like each other too much, but she’s a good partner once you get past that whole pissed-off-at-the world exterior.”

Quatre ignored that comment. “Where are you living? And why did you change offices?”

“Lately? I’ve been living in a cardboard box under the bridge at 87th street, in Little Russia. And I really, really want a shower.” Duo shrugged. “So was there something you needed, Q? Cause I really need to be going.”

“I— we wanted to invite you to dinner. We haven’t seen you, and – and we miss you.”

“Really?” Duo blinked. “Damn, that sounds like fun. But I’m gonna have to pass, man. I already have plans for dinner tonight, and we’re getting shipped out on a new mission first thing in the morning.” Duo shrugged, and started to edge past him again. “But thanks for the invite.”

“Maybe when you get back then? We— really want to see you.”

Duo hesitated, his back to Quatre for a moment. When he turned around, Quatre almost wished he hadn’t. The sad, wistful look in his eyes hurt to see, and the sudden flood of bitter emotion from his normally cheerful friend made his stomach churn. 

“Quatre— if I make it back, we’ll see. But this is going to be a rough mission. So I don’t want to make a promise I might not be able to keep.” He shrugged. “Tell the guys I said goodbye, okay?"

“Duo…”

“Don’t.” Duo frowned, and looked down the empty stairwell behind them. “There’s nothing else to say, Quatre. I miss you guys, too. But things have changed, and this is our path now, y’know? If I don’t make it back in time for the weddings, eat some cake for me, okay?”

“Allah, Duo,” Quatre fought against the almost overwhelming feeling of sadness and black depression that tinged Duo’s emotions. “At least tell me Une’s sending more than just the three of you on this suicide mission!”

“I promise, there are more than just the three of us going.” Duo shrugged carelessly. “It’s a mission, Q. Someone’s got to go, and we are rather uniquely qualified to do this. Don’t worry so much.”

“We asked to go back out there, after whatever madman is behind the murder of an entire colony. We were qualified enough to do the job on L2, and L6. We’re Gundam pilots, dammit. What the hell other qualifications do we need?”

“I hope to God you never have to find out,” Duo said curtly. “And Une was right not to send you guys. You shouldn’t have to do the suicide missions anymore. The war is over, and you guys all have something new and special to live for. I just had an empty apartment I never went home to, a few dead plants and a lot of old ghosts.”

“You shouldn’t have to do the suicide missions either—” Quatre choked out, not able to escape the feeling that he was saying goodbye to his friend for the last time. “You have us…”

“You have each other.” The sadness intensified for a moment, then vanished as the manic grin came back. “Besides, Q, suicide missions are what we are uniquely qualified for. Take care of Trowa for me, okay?” 

It took a moment for the full impact of his words to sink in, and when he finally blinked the tears out of his eyes, Duo was gone and the stairwell was empty. “Oh Allah— what have we done?”


	33. The Last Supper

Trowa leaned against the row of lockers, only the steady sound of a single shower running in the otherwise deserted locker room stopping him from storming into the next room and dragging Duo bodily out from under the water. 

He hadn’t known what to think when Quatre burst back into the office, babbling that he’d seen Duo, and that Trowa needed to hurry or they would lose him forever. He’d listened just long enough to realize that he had a less than fifteen minute window to find Duo before he vanished again. From the look on Quatre’s face, his brief conversation with their missing companion had disturbed him deeply, and Trowa was determined to find out what was going on. 

Snarling at the others when they started to follow, he had sprinted for the locker room. The relief when he caught enough of a glimpse to confirm that it was in fact Duo in the shower nearly took him to his knees. He’d had to force himself back out into the actual locker area, though he couldn’t bring himself to completely lose his line of sight to the door leading to the showers.

It was several minutes before the sound of the shower cut off, and Trowa crossed his arms tightly across his chest. It would probably be a bad idea to punch Duo as soon as he saw him, and right now it was taking all of his concentration to ignore that temptation.

Duo finally emerged from the shower room, already dressed in a clean pair of jeans and using one of the white towels to dry his loose hair. He started when he saw Trowa leaning against his locker, his blue eyes widening a little. 

“Trowa, hey man!” He managed a small attempt at a smile, which neither of them believed. “Guess Quat told you where to find me, huh?”

“He did,” Trowa said coolly, working hard to keep his voice level. “He seemed to be under the impression that you intended to leave the planet without actually speaking to any of us.”

“Didn’t think there was much to say,” Duo sighed, and sank down on the bench, the towel slipping forgotten to the floor as he reached for the rest of the clothes folded in a neat pile in front of him.

“What’s going on, Duo?” Trowa stared at his best friend helplessly. “What happened to make it so we can’t even talk to each other?”

“A lot.” Duo closed his eyes. “Everything changed, and if I try to explain it, I doubt even you would believe me.” He laughed a little bitterly. “I know for damn sure none of the others would.”

“Try me.” Trowa moved a step closer, reassured when Duo showed no signs of running. “Duo, what happened to you?”

“I lost my mind for a little while.” Duo tugged a tee shirt over his head, and then still avoiding Trowa’s eyes, grabbed his brush from inside his locker. “But it’s okay now.”

“It’s okay now?” Trowa snorted. “You tell Quatre that you and your new partners are uniquely suited to suicide missions, Une tells me you haven’t been alright in months, and the rumor mill can’t decide if this new homicide department is a bunch of anti-social psychopaths waiting to bring down the world, a black ops team or a bunch of ghosts haunting the halls; a rumor not helped by the fact that none of you show up on any surveillance cameras. What part of that is meant to reassure me that it’s okay now?”

“The part where I’m still alive and sitting here in front of you. I haven’t put a bullet in my brain, or gotten myself killed due to either sleep deprivation or idiotic co-workers without the sense God gave squirrels. The part where I’m telling you _it is okay._ I’m alright, and I’m sane, and I finally have partners that understand why I doubted that for so long.”

“I’ve never doubted your sanity,” Trowa said slowly. “So tell me what happened to make you think you had lost your mind.”

“I don’t think that is a good idea.” Duo looked up at him, and Trowa could see the pain in his eyes. 

“Why not? Because I was the one who dragged you back to Earth, and into being a preventer. If it nearly cost me your life, I need to know why.”

“Because there is a chance that what happened to me, Dorothy, Zechs and even Une, might not have happened to you guys yet.” Duo laughed shortly. “At least let me take that belief on this mission, that maybe if we stop what is happening out there, no one else has to go through this.”

“How did Dorothy know about the explosions on L2-V08997? Or that there were going to be bodies floating in space?” The words fell between them. “Une and Howard were expecting them too, except that Howard seemed to think we were the ones that would be dead. She asked Lowell to bring back the bodies, and he asked for backup. Why would he think she could send someone out there to back us up, that none of us would see?”

“Lowell was hoping you hadn’t heard that bit, but I guess it’s not too surprising that you did.”

“I heard quite a few of the conversations he had with Howard. And that was not an answer.”

“The answer is that Dorothy couldn’t,” Duo hesitated. “But Zechs can, and has done that, and Lowell knew it.”

“What kind of backup was he asking for?”

“Tell me, do you believe in ghosts?”

“What?” Trowa stared at him for a long time, and Duo flushed. 

“Nevermind.” Standing up abruptly, he tried to get past Trowa to the door. Trowa merely caught his arm and held on tightly, until Duo turned to look back up at him. “Trowa…”

“Tell me what is going on, Duo.”

“You aren’t going to believe me.”

“You haven’t even tried me yet.” Trowa met his eyes calmly. “What I do know is that whatever is going on, you have already convinced Une, Howard, and Lowell. And while I do not know Lowell, I do know Une and Howard. Neither one of them strike me as the type to believe in something that isn’t real.”

Duo hesitated, turning his head to look at Trowa for a long moment. “Do you remember using the Zero system?”

Trowa started to nod, then stopped and considered the question carefully. “Not fully. I remember everything after that though.”

Duo nodded. “Were you ever in Epyon?”

“No.” Trowa tilted his head. “What does this have to do with what is going on?”

“That’s where this whole thing starts.” Duo stared down at his hands. “With Epyon during the war. Treize built it to see everything, fast enough to protect a human pilot. But he built it too well, and it—didn’t understand how to interface with humans.” 

“So?” Trowa frowned. “Epyon was destroyed during the war.”

“No, it wasn’t.” Duo sighed. “And even if it had been, the damage had already been done. Everyone who came into contact with that system was –changed by it.”

“Changed—how?”

“You know how after Quatre used the system and went crazy, his empathy became twice as strong as it had been? That kind of changed.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Epyon affected everyone that used it differently, especially if they had any underlying psychic tendencies. Quatre’s empathy got stronger, Une ended up with two personalities because she saw two possible futures and didn’t know how to make them both fit, Zechs—“ Duo winced. “Zechs became a medium, and Dorothy has a type of clairvoyance, in that she gets glimpses of things that are going to happen before they do.”

“What does this have to do with you thinking you were losing your mind a few months ago?”

“I had a mild talent for psychometry as a kid.” He laughed harshly, the sound completely lacking in humor. “Let’s just say it’s not exactly a mild talent anymore.” Duo grabbed a pair of fingerless gloves out of his locker, staring at them for a long moment before tugging them on.

“What is that?”

“Strong emotions can imprint on physical objects. If I touch them, I see what—what caused the imprint.”

“But you were never in Epyon…”

“That’s not exactly true. When I was a prisoner, I was used as a test subject for it because the Oz soldiers kept dying.”

“Jesus…”

“Anyway, we all started noticing the effects about the same time, and Zechs, with the help of Treize Khushrenada, started putting all the pieces together. And now, well, here we are.”

“Treize Khushrenada is dead. Or did he survive along with Epyon?”

“Treize is dead.” Duo glanced up at Trowa warily. “But that doesn’t mean he’s not around most of the time. Zechs still talks to him.”

“So Lowell expected the ghost of Treize Khrushrenada to what, appear on a shuttle in the middle of open space?”

“Well, possibly not Treize. I’m not sure he really cared who Zechs sent, and he knows there are at least two ghosts in Purgatory.”

“And did Zechs send him?”

“Treize? Yeah, Zechs sent him. He and Sister Helen both went, I think.”

“If anyone that used Epyon was changed— what about Heero?”

Duo shrugged. “We don’t know, to be honest. He’s the only one we don’t know about. The professors modified the program when they created the Zero system, and it doesn’t seem to have affected the rest of you guys as much. But Heero piloted Epyon itself. If he is not having any weird side effects, then maybe he didn’t have any psychic talents to start with.”

Trowa frowned thoughtfully, staring at the wall without seeing it. “He’s been having nightmares lately, but then, after what we saw during the war, we all have been.”

“I think maybe you better come to dinner.” Duo glanced up at Trowa quickly, then looked back at the door. “But only you. Trust me, the others are not ready for Purgatory yet.”

Trowa sighed, and pulled out his phone to send Heero a quick text. 

“I think you’re underestimating them.”

“You say that now.” Duo dragged his wet hair into a loose braid, and then headed for the door. “I’m still not sure _you’re_ ready for the truth about us. Howard nearly called the men in the white suits to pick us up when I told him.”

Trowa followed him out of the locker room, and then blinked when he realized that Duo was heading for stairwell instead of the elevator. “What _is_ Purgatory?”

“You’ll see.” Duo opened the door to the stairwell, and led the way to the third floor.

“There aren’t any offices on the third floor, just the records rooms…”

“And Purgatory.” Duo glanced back with a grin. “Sorry, the Homicide Department. I think Une was hoping that isolating us would prevent a mutiny among the other agents. That and she wanted our offices for new recruits.”

“I hope eventually the quality of those new recruits gets a little better,” Trowa groused, as Duo led the way to what he vaguely remembered on the floor plans as a small lounge. 

“Some of them aren’t so bad.” Duo opened the unmarked door. “Welcome to Purgatory.”

Trowa really wasn’t sure what he expected to be waiting beyond the door, but somehow it wasn’t to see Dorothy, Une and Sally Po seated at an oval conference table, while Howard and Lowell were opening a large number of takeout containers. Zechs was standing beside the table with a stack of plates in his hands. 

Everyone glanced up as the door opened, and Zechs nodded at Trowa. “I was starting to wonder if you guys were actually coming.”

“Were you really?” Duo grinned at his partner, and gestured for Trowa to enter. He stepped into the room with a sigh. “I figured you would know about it the second we set foot in the stairwell.”

“Well, it’s about damn time one of you idiots found their way here.” Howard waved a bottle of what looked like beer at Trowa. “You alone, or are the others coming too?”

“I didn’t exactly find this place on my own,” Trowa muttered. “And no, it’s just me.”

“Huh.” 

“I asked him not to bring the others,” Duo muttered. “Tro’s the one most likely to believe this insanity anyway. Rather not have our last night here end badly.”

Howard snorted. “I can only imagine.”

“Don’t listen to him,” Dorothy said. “We’re glad you decided to give Duo the benefit of the doubt and join us for dinner tonight.”

Duo made a face in her general direction, but didn’t protest. 

“Please, help yourselves.” Zechs gestured at the stack of paper plates on the table. There was a brief hesitation, before Howard rolled his eyes and headed for the food. 

Trowa followed Duo’s lead, content to watch in bemused silence as the others filled their plates. Once everyone had gotten food and found seats, Zechs pulled four ceramic plates from the center of the table, where they were half hidden under a small Christmas tree. Duo and Dorothy both fell silent as he moved around the table, though Trowa could see equally confused looks from Une and Sally as he set one back down in the center of the table, one in front of Dorothy, and put two more at the end of the table where there were no chairs. Lowell was watching Zechs curiously, but it was Howard who finally shook his head as Zechs set the last plate down and stepped back.

“So still half and half, huh?”

“In general, yes.” Zechs smiled sadly, his eyes locked on the last plate, and the single rose in the center. “But tonight, the living do seem to outnumber those who are not.”

“See that it stays that way, and doesn’t tip back the other way.” Howard grumbled. 

“We’ll try our best, Old Man.” Duo smirked around a mouthful of pizza. “But on behalf of all the members of Purgatory, visible or not: Thanks for sharing our last night on earth.”

“Just tell me that the plate in the center of the table is one of your ghosts, not Zechs’.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unfortunately, this is the last chapter I'm going to be posting for a bit. I have two more chapters written, and am working on the third, but I'm at the point in the story where I am having to tweak things and move them around a lot to get everything lined up and happening in the right order. 
> 
> This seemed to be a good stopping point, the last calm before the storm.


	34. The Road to Hell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I failed utterly at getting the story finished by Christmas, or even New Years. It is still not finished, and I apparently locked my muse behind the mental wall I built around the hell that was December and January. So I am making no promises about timely updates. That seems to summon the plague down upon my head, and I have already been sick more times and missed more work since December 15th, than I have in at least 7 years.
> 
> But in the meantime, have another chapter.

Trowa woke from uneasy dreams to find Heero’s side of the bed empty and cool. Frowning, he shoved the covers aside and padded out to the kitchen to find Heero methodically cleaning all the guns in the apartment. His lover was so focused on his work that he only looked up when Trowa sat down across the table and put a hand over the gun currently being re-assembled in front of him.

“Bad dreams again?” 

Heero went still, and then looked up at him with a sigh. “I was trying not to wake you.”

“Mine were not exactly pleasant, at least not that I can remember.” Trowa hesitated then, remembering with a start Duo’s explanation of how Purgatory had formed. “What did _you_ dream about?”

“I think it was from the war. There were soldiers, holding guns on people from all the colonies. A man dressed all in black, but I couldn’t see his face. I don’t remember most of it.”

“Hmm.” Trowa rubbed his forehead wearily, but knew that there was no point in either of them attempting to sleep again. “Are you hungry? Since we have the time, I thought I might actually cook breakfast for once.”

“That sounds good.” Heero managed a faint smile at him. “If you are sure you don’t want to try and catch a few more hours of sleep?”

“I’m sure.” 

Trowa forced his worry about Duo away, concentrating on making pancakes and bacon. But his attempt at distraction only lasted until they reached the office and he saw Quatre and Wufei waiting outside their office door. Neither looked any more rested than Heero, or Trowa did. If anything, Quatre looked even worse, with dark circles under normally bright eyes. 

“You two look like hell,” Heero echoed his thoughts. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong…” “Everything…”

Trowa raised one eyebrow at them, before waving them into the office. “Can you narrow that down a little more?”

“Nothing has happened,” Wufei sighed heavily. “But neither of us slept well last night.”

“I keep thinking of Duo, and the way he felt in the stairwell,” Quatre confessed quietly, guilt heavy in his voice. “I’m worried about him out there, with only Lowell and Merquise for backup.”

“He’s got a little more backup than that,” Trowa muttered softly. “More than you might expect, anyway.” He hadn’t been able to bring himself to tell the other pilots about Treize, or what Epyon had done; every time he started, he remembered Duo’s belief that they were not ready for the full truth about Purgatory. He wasn’t sure _he_ believed that the ghost of Treize Khushrenada, and the psychotic computer program he’d created, were somehow still around. 

“I’m not sure Dorothy Catalonia is enough to tip the balance in their favor, when they are going after someone that would destroy an entire colony, and throw children out an airlock.” Wufei growled. “We had almost a hundred Preventers and half the sweeper fleet, and we still lost over twenty-five hundred people.”

“So what do you suggest?” Trowa asked.

“We need to go back out there, and figure this mess out.” Quatre replied shortly. “I still don’t understand what Une expects them to do that we cannot.”

“We have our orders,” Heero said with a frown, but for once his voice lacked its normal conviction. 

Trowa moved to the window, staring out at the early morning light. “Une sent them out there because they are the only ones that can learn the truth about what is going on.”

“That doesn’t make any sense…” Chang growled, only to shut up abruptly at a look from Trowa.

“Trowa?” Heero moved up behind him, and put a careful hand on his shoulder. “You still haven’t told us what was wrong with Duo, or why his team is such a heavily guarded secret. What is really going on?”

“They are on their way to L1.” Trowa rested his forehead against the cool glass of the window, and closed his eyes. “Duo picked up a lead from one of the bodies we brought back, and they are trying to find someone they hope can tell them who is behind this whole thing.” He laughed cynically. “Someone that we would never be able to find or question, no matter how long we looked.” 

“We’ll never know if we don’t try.” Wufei muttered. 

“Unless one of _you_ can talk to the dead, I’m pretty sure about that one.” Trowa ignored the shocked silence behind him, even as he turned toward the door. “But maybe there is something we can do.”

“Tro, where are you going?” Heero tightened his grip on Trowa’s shoulder painfully. “Now _you_ aren’t making sense.” 

“I need to talk to Une again. Maybe this time I can make her see reason.” Pulling away from Heero, he stalked out the door. He could hear them trailing behind him up the hallway, but couldn’t find it in himself to care. _I’m sorry, Duo. You must have felt so damn alone with this secret, and none of us even noticed._

*******

Duo stopped short on the crowded dock, staring at the sleek ship outside the viewports and nearly causing Lowell to run over him. “Oh god, I think I’m in love.” 

“Is that it?” Lowell leaned closer to the clear port and eyed the ship dubiously. “It’s kind of… small.” 

“Small, but if Howard was telling the truth, fast as hell and way more maneuverable than the ancient piece of ex-OZ crap Une sent us out here in.” 

The docking tube in front of them opened, and a tall, skinny Sweeper in stained coveralls stepped outside with a grin. “You get drool – or anything else—on my baby here, and I’m gonna make you wash her by hand.” 

“That is hardly a threat, my man.” Duo smirked. “I may do that a few times anyway, before we give her back.” 

“Come on inside, the prof and I will show you all her tricks.” The stranger thrust a hand out to Lowell. “You must be the new guy that Howard told me about. I’m Melvin. Believe nothing that this idiot here says about me.” 

“Robert Lowell. Nice to meet you.” 

Duo vanished up the docking tube as they were finishing the introduction. Lowell tensed when Melvin kept hold of his hand and tugged him closer, his easy smile turning to a scowl. “I’m trusting you to watch his back, Lowell. You hear me?” 

“Howard already gave me the speech, but I hear you.” 

“Duo isn’t just Howard’s kid, he’s a Sweeper. And we watch out for our own.” 

“Got it.” Lowell met the man’s stare with one of his own, though he doubted his was nearly as steady. He could still see the slow roll of bodies past the shuttle window every time he closed his eyes, and he wasn’t going to pretend that he wasn’t freaked out to be back in space again. 

“Stop giving him the stare, Melvin!” Duo’s voice carried down the tube from the depths of the ship. “Lowell’s already saved my ass once. He’s alright.” 

Melvin snorted, but let go of Lowell’s hand and stepped back; a moment later, his easy grin returned. “Well then, let’s get this show on the road. Welcome aboard the Lamia.” 

*******

Zechs stepped into the crowded bar, Dorothy at his back. A wary hush fell throughout as wary eyes turned toward strangers in their midst. He sighed and stepped farther into the bar, looking for an empty table or booth. After a few long moments, the drone of whispered conversations started again, and he made a mental note to thank Duo for suggesting that they not wear official Preventers gear. 

There was a palpable tension in the air, as refugees from L2-V08997 and those who had witnessed the colony’s death spread throughout the other clusters. Memories of the war were still fresh, and there was more than a few suggestions that maybe OZ had not been defeated after all, and that earth was still seeking to subjugate the colonies. 

“Is he here?” Dorothy asked grimly, her eyes travelling over the number of people packed into the small booths and tables. At the rear of the building, and taking up nearly the entire width of the room, was the bar itself. Mirrors reflected the room and the large number of bottles on the shelves, while tall stools lined three sides of it. 

“I don’t see any ghosts here,” he responded quietly. “Not even any of ours.” 

“Well, it’s not like we thought this was going to be easy.” Dorothy tapped his shoulder, and then pointed at an emptying table near the back. “Guess it’s a good thing you still owe me a drink.” 

They took seats at the table, and Zechs gestured at the bartender for two beers. It had been only a slim hope that the ghost would be here. Resolving to at least give it a few more hours, he nodded at Dorothy and they settled back to wait. 

**** ***

Ignoring the attempts of Une’s assistant to block his path, Trowa headed straight for the Commander’s office. Heero kept close behind, though he was peripherally aware of Quatre and Chang intercepting the admin as they reached the door. Both Une and Sally looked up in surprise when they entered, though the look quickly faded to something closer to approval on Sally. 

In the harsh light of the office, Commander Une looked even worse than Quatre had, with bruises under both eyes and a slight tremor to the hand she was clutching a large cup of coffee with. 

“You might as well give in now,” Sally shook her head at Une as she leaned back in her seat. “I’ve seen that look entirely too often lately on Maxwell and Merquise.” 

“What are you doing here, Barton?” Une sighed, rubbing her eyes with a weary frown. “Yuy.” 

“Every single one of us had nightmares last night.” Heero turned to stare at his lover, not having expected Trowa to start with that. “And from the looks of it, so did you.” 

Une sighed, and seemed to deflate, then waved the rest of them into the office. “Close the door.” 

Trowa leaned over Une’s desk, bracing himself on one hand. “Une, you have to let us go out there. Duo and his partners need backup, and if these nightmares are coming from Epyon like they think, then we may have as much at stake in this as they do.” 

“Maybe,” Une winced, and looked past him at the other Gundam pilots. Her brow furrowed even more at the confused looks they were sending in Trowa’s direction. “But they have had three months to figure out how not to get dead because of this. And trust me, they have come pretty damned close to it more than once. You have known about it for two days, and from the looks of it, you haven’t even told the others yet.” 

“Told us what?” Heero growled. “What the hell does Epyon have to do with this?” 

“Khushrenada accidently made Epyon just a little more sentient than he intended. That fact is now coming back to bite anyone that ever used the system. Or, considering that Chang and I are also having nightmares—anyone that used the Zero system as well.” 

“I think the fact that we are all having nightmares might have something to do with witnessing the murder of an entire colony, and the kidnapping of all but three people from another,” Chang muttered. 

“I would have agreed with you, except that we’ve all been having nightmares for weeks now, if not months.” Trowa straightened slowly, though he did not look away from Une. “That’s how it starts, isn’t it?” 

“It is.” Sally entered the conversation, her voice grim. “Although so far, you don’t seem to be showing any of the other effects that the members of Purgatory did. Unless there is something you want to tell us?” 

“So far as I know, none of us have started experiencing things that would make us think we’d lost our sanity.” Trowa growled. “But if we are going to start, I’d rather be in closer proximity to the only people who have figured out how to cope with it. No offense, Commander.” 

Une sighed. “None taken. Believe me, I more than understand why they trusted Sally with the truth long before they shared it with me. But I promised to shield them from the rest of Preventers; and I will be damned if I break that trust now.” 

“We aren’t the rest of Preventers,” Trowa said quietly. “We’re Duo’s friends, and we made a promise during the war that we would have his back, no matter what. It’s time for us to keep that promise. So you can either let us go after them, and lend them the backup they won’t get from the rest of this fucking organization, or we can go on our own, and you’ll be short at least four more agents.” 

Heero blinked in shock, but found himself standing up at Trowa’s back, his eyes locked on Une as she sagged into her seat. 

“Une…” Sally started, but the other woman cut her off with a shake of her head. 

“No. They’re right.” Her eyes hardened as she came to a decision. “And they sure as hell owe Duo something for leaving him to face this alone. Fine. But if you are going to back up Purgatory, you are going to back up _all of them_.” Her eyes swept over Quatre and Wufei. “So _you_ had better get over whatever issue you have with Dorothy Catalonia before you set foot out of this building. Because right now, I need what she can do a hell of a lot more than what any of you can do.” Her gaze turned back to Trowa. “And you need to tell the rest of them the truth about Purgatory, before you go after them.” 

“I will.” 

“Good. In that case, Howard is prepping a ship to leave in two hours. I suggest you find a way to be on it.” 

“Howard?” Heero frowned. “Why would we need to go with him, instead of taking a Preventers shuttle?” 

“Because from what Duo learned, Preventers has possibly been compromised, or even infiltrated. You’ll be going in without outwardly official trappings until we know more about what is going on, and who is behind this evil.” She smiled humorlessly. “Besides, apparently the sweepers have been backing Purgatory for longer than I’ve even been aware of this mess.” She shook her head. “If anyone knows the full truth about them, and what they can do, it’s Howard.” 

“I’m going too.” Sally stood up, her gaze calm as she faced Une. “Maxwell’s ability has a tendency to turn into a liability in close quarters, and I am not sure the others are dealing as well with this as they pretend to be. Dr. Riese has already agreed to stand in my place until we get back, on the condition that I bring Maxwell and Merquise back intact. It would appear that even his skepticism had limits, and his curiosity has definitely been piqued.” 

“You left out the part where you are the one they usually turn to on the rare occasion they call for backup.” Une said dryly. “And the only other person besides Howard and possibly Lowell they have trusted with the full truth.” 

“Une…” 

“Don’t try to lie, Sally. There is something that all of you are keeping from me about Dorothy. For now, I will respect that. And while I would go with you if I could, I suspect I will be of more assistance coordinating things from here.” 

“Thank you,” Sally said quietly. “Besides, we need someone here to figure out why some of the bad guys are pretending to be Preventers.” 

“What?” Heero asked grimly, latching onto the only part of the conversation he felt he had understood. 

“Sally can explain that, probably better than I can.” Une stood up, and waved at the door. “Go. Stay in contact. I will do everything I can to help you from here.” 

Once they were in the hall, everyone turned to Trowa. “Okay, so what the hell is going on? What is Purgatory, and why do we need to know the truth about it, in order to help Duo?” 

“Not here,” Sally growled in a low voice, brushing past them. “Until we can be sure the walls here don’t have ears, I suggest you not discuss this inside headquarters.” 

“What about in Purgatory?” Trowa frowned at her, ignoring the others’ confusion for the moment. 

“I have no doubt that the safeguard in Purgatory went with them when they left the planet,” Sally sighed. “Besides, we don’t have the time to convince them we aren’t insane too. We’re already a full day behind them. If we’re going to do any good, we need to go now.” 

*******

Zechs sighed, setting down the empty glass in his hand and rubbing his eyes wearily. They had been sitting there for several hours, watching the ebb and flurry of the crowd. Each new arrival was greeted with the same silent appraisal and dismissal, but he and Dorothy had slowly become part of the background. 

Turning to the bar, he signaled for two more beers and then froze. Sitting still and silent at the bar, was a man wearing a Preventers uniform and staring moodily down at a lighter in his hand. No one else in the crowd even so much as glanced at him, yet somehow he remained untouched by the other occupants as they jostled for seats in the small space. 

“Zechs?” Dorothy laid a hand on his, reminding him that he was frozen half out of his seat and waving at the bar. 

“He’s here.” 

“It’s about damn time,” she muttered wearily. “Though how you are going to manage to get his attention in here is beyond me.” 

Zechs had been wondering that himself, but he relaxed back into his seat a little as Treize appeared next to the bar. He couldn’t hear what Treize said to the other man, but even through the crowd between them, there was no disguising the awe on the strange ghost’s face as he recognized Treize. 

“Treize is here,” Zechs said in relief. “That should make it a little easier.” 

“I hope something about this nightmare turns out to be easy…” 

Zechs watched as the ghost they had been looking for jumped to his feet, and offered Treize a salute that brought unwelcome memories of OZ. “Oh… _hell_.” 


End file.
